A Sound of Thunder
by SilverExcel115
Summary: An M1 Abrams tank and her crew and a pair of Russian Spetznaz are placed onto Remnant after they supposedly die in battle. They instead wake up in younger bodies and are picked by Jacques Schnee and General Ironwood. Under Ironwood and with support from the SDC, would go on to found the Atlesian Expiditionary Force. Cover BF3 Poster.
1. Thunder Run

**Author's Note: I was sitting around my computer watching the show** _ **Top Gear**_ **when I came up with this story. The humor and characters are based on the miniseries _Generation Kill_ _,_ and their aesthetics and gear I pulled from _Battlefield 4_ and _Rainbow 6 Siege_. On practically one day of research and several more days of concept work, I came out with this.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Thunder Run

Out across rolling grassland hills deep in Vale, sat a large settlement right on the edge of the Emerald Forest. The settlement of Opportunity, it was a thriving, self-sufficient town founded upon the discovery of a precious resource by a joint Atlesian and Valian prospecting team, petroleum. Decades earlier, it was discovered that one 42 gallon barrel of petroleum could produce almost double the amount of energy than that of dust in the equivalent weight at 1700 kilowatt hours (kwh). Though promising, researchers had ultimately decided to rely on dust instead. Petroleum was nowhere near as plentiful, nor as adaptable as dust was, and produced a fair amount of pollution next to dusts nearly nonexistent fumes. It was also decided that the difficulty in oil extraction and resources needed was not worth an only 700 kWh increase. For decades, fossil fuels as well as many other forms of energy was deemed pointless with the advent of dust, so it soon became forgotten. In the recent years, the Schnee Dust Corporation as well as the Atlas Military soon began drawing up interests in the old obsolete concepts. This is where our story starts….

* * *

Opportunity had gone silent over the past couple of weeks. Fearing the town had been overrun by Grimm, the Atlas Military sent a drone to recon the area and what they found had honestly scared them. It was worse than Grimm, the town had been raided and successfully captured by the White Fang who were now currently setting fire to the place. The smoke from the oil well fires could be seen for miles. One particular person was watching it with keen interest.

"Sir!" a voice called out drawing the man's attention.

From the hatch next to him rose another man dressed similar to him. The man nods and takes a quick look around him just as a pair of bullheads fly overhead. Surrounding his vehicle were large box shaped, tracked monsters covered in thick armor, and mounted with a beastly looking canon all traveling at a seemingly unreal off roads speed of 70 km/h. They were Atlesian recreations of the old MBT-70 prototype and up front leading the charge, was a mighty M1A2 SEP v4 Abrams with its TUSK configuration. How did this mighty….out of place vehicle end up in Remnant alongside recreations of its original prototype model? We'll get to that later.

Captain Grant Anderson took one more look around at the platoon before sliding down into the belly of the tank, closing the hatch behind him.

He switches on his radio and says "Homeguard, this is Nightmare 1-1, we are mission launch for objective "Alpha." Advance and report, over."

One by one, the other tanks reported in with their acknowledgements, then all of a sudden he saw what looked like large rockets flying over the formation.

"Holy….what are those?" a surprised voice asks.

"Looks like old Vacuoan rocket arty," another voice replies, "It's numbers make up for its inaccuracy. A really bad day if they land a direct hit!"

"Sir!" the gunner located in front of him called out, "3rd ID should be arriving now on right flank."

As if right one cue, a voice with a thick Russian accent sounds off "Nightmare 1-1, this is Alpha-01 over."

The formation is soon joined by a collection of APCs and IFVs, leading the charge like the tank platoon, is a Russian Kurganets-25.

The radio operator grabs his radio and replies "Alpha-01, this is Nightmare 1-1, our commander should be giving you a wave, can you see him?"

The Russian climbs out of his hatch to look, he then laughs as he sees Anderson throwing him a middle finger.

"That's affirmative Nightmare 1-1," he replies, "Allow me to return the gesture."

He then flips him off as well. They both then climb back into their respective vehicles with a nice laugh.

"All call signs, this is Nightmare 1-1, scouts report White Fang mechs and light armor ahead. This is why we came here. Clear out any resistance and allow the infantry to move in." He then switches to his crew mic, "Guys you hear? Stations. Driver, move out full throttle."

"Roger."

"Loader report."

"Let's get some!"

"Gunner report!"

"Guns ready!"

"Okay we're Redcon 1!" Anderson shouts.

"Nightmare 1-1 and 1-3," Homeguard radioed, "Any visual yet, report out."

"Negative, nothing yet," Anderson then switches the broadcast to all vehicles, "Okay, everyone form beyond this point is an enemy."

Right then, an rpg landed to the right of the tank, out in the distance, he could see 4 armored trucks, and two old Atlas mechs.

"Contact, sabot, 4 tanks, 2 mechs TRP 3, cross, at my command….fire!"

Though the Mistralian Blockader is not a tank, it basically being an armored truck with a canon mounted on it, it close enough. It's armor was thick enough for the sabots to be effective and that was all Anderson cared about. At that moment, each of the four tanks lined up their sights with a target. Then in just one split second, they unleashed hell upon the opposing armor.

The Abrams was the first to fire, out from its massive 120mm smoothbore barrel, a strange cone shaped projectile shot out. The outer casing broke away revealing a thin dart like projectile which slammed into the lead tank knocking it out of the fight. One by one, the other tanks open up making short work of the remaining armor.

"All stations , enemy armor engaged and destroyed in this sector," Anderson announces.

"Nice word 1-1."

"Homeguard, this is Nightmare 1-1, continuing with mission."

"Copy that 1-1," Homeguard replied, "Bound to next checkpoint and report, out."

Anderson nods "Top of the ridge, Nightmare 1-1, copy."

The two tanks proceeded onward unopposed for another 3 klicks before the ground in front of them exploded.

They continued on for a little bit longer before someone yelled "Incoming!" forcing the tanks to stop as a barrage of rockets landed right in front of them.

"They got us zeroed in!" another tank commander reported.

"Incoming, incoming. All Nightmare state, halt, halt, halt," Anderson ordered sternly. "Line formation. I say again, line formation. Wait for further. Out."

Another voice comes onto the radio saying "All Nightmare elements, this is Eagle 3-1. Orbiting above you now. We're patching in a UAV feed."

"Patching in MAV feed. MAV is mobile!" Anderson shouts.

He moved over to the other console and switches it on revealing the live, black and white, thermal, feed from a bullhead over head right as the rest of the platoon caught up with the front two tanks. The little further back was the rest of the armored convoy who also came to a stop at a good 200 meters back.

"Nightmare 1-1, that rocket battery is your primary target. CAS is on station," Homeguard ordered.

"Roger, Homeguard," Anderson replies, "Standing by for gun-run." He turns to the loader and mutters "Time to see if the general got the birds to work."

"It's like a beehive," Eagle 3-1 commented.

Anderson then moves the camera crosshair and hovered it over the collection of truck mounted rocket batteries. The batteries fire again revealing a large cloud on the thermal imaging confirming their location.

"Alright, lasing the target!" Anderson shouted as he marked the spot where the artillery were focused.

"Nightmare 1-1, we mark your spot," Eagle 3-1 confirmed, "CAS is inbound in 5 seconds. Standby."

"Watch it," a voice rang out.

In that moment the entire area where the trucks were located erupted with a white shroud representing the massive increase in temperature from that area. Just as quickly as it appeared, it faded followed with a loud animalistic *brrrrrtttt,* finished with a fast moving, low flying aircraft that resembled a bird of prey. As the aircraft flew past the encampment, they released a constant screech like noise that hammered in the bird imagery.

"Here we go," the same voice whistle led.

Another aircraft, identical to the first fly over firing the same cannon and releasing the same roar.

"Falcon 1-1, Hawk 3-3. Sortie complete," they reported. "BDA maximum on enemy position. We are bingo and egressing out, over."

"Roger 3-1," replies Homeguard, "Nightmare 1-1 is cleared to proceed with the mission."

Understanding this, Anderson glances to his right and watches as his loader sling in a new round.

"Loading HEAT!"

In approximately 5 seconds, the loader was done and confirmed it with a resounding "HEAT up!"

"All Nightmare victors commencing charge," Anderson declare sternly, "On my mark. 3,2,1. Mark! Driver move out, full throttle!"

The Abrams' turbine engine rumbled and the tank slowly started to move forward, gradually building up speed as the tanks rolled over the hills. The defending White Fang was still recovering from the airstrike from earlier. They were just a small raid party, laying claim to what they thought was a large dust collection. They were not prepared for such a strong military response. As the tanks came about their max speed at 70 kilometers per hour, they charged forward as the White Fang soldiers began firing on the oncoming armor. When they saw the machine gun rounds harmlessly ping off the sloped armor, they began to bring out rpgs. As they filled the area with rockets, one launcher ended up scoring a lucky hit on an MBT-70.

"Nightmare 1-1! 1-4 is hit, 1-4 is down!" they screamed, "They hit our track!"

"They got us zeroed!" Anderson shouts to all tanks.

The two leading tanks then fired their canons into the front barrier blasting a sizeable hole in the defenses while the others singled out the guard posts. As the large wall grew closer, the tank drivers soon began to grow weary,

"Go through it, Kowalski, don't stop!" Anderson screamed to his driver.

Kowalski did as ordered and plowed through the thick concrete wall creating a large tank sized hole in their defenses.

"Homeguard we're proceeding into the berm," Anderson radioed.

"Roger," he responded, "All call signs continue assault into the encampment."

"There, southside!" Anderson barked as the opfor soldiers ran over from all directions trying to stop the assault. "Driver get us the fuck out of here! Enemy to the 11 o'clock, coax!"

The gunner then switched to the coaxial mounted machine up and ripped apart the watchtower in front of them.

"Nightmare 1-1, prosecuting enemy dismounts!" Anderson reported while using the controls to remotely operate the pintle mounted .50 cal HMG on the turret, wiping away any soldier who got too close.

It was utter chaos on the enemy's side, soldiers fell left and right as the tanks rolled on through the encampment like an unstoppable force of nature. The convoy did not stop the onslaught until the tanks reached the end of the encampment.

"Encampment is clearer," Anderson reported, "Alpha 0-1 you are free to proceed with mission. All Nightmare victors proceed to establishing a defensive perimeter around the north side of the town."

"Acknowledged Nightmare 1-1, we shouldn't take long," he replies in a jolly tone. "Just make sure Grimm don't sneak up on us."

"Roger."

"Nightmare 1-1. Is there?" Alpha 0-1 asks, "It seems seems you already got everyone."

A few moments passed as the tank platoon anxiously listened to their radios. All they could hear was sporadic gunfire and random calls and orders as the soldiers went door to door.

"Homeguard, civilians are secure and ready for extraction over!" Alpha 0-1 reported.

"Roger that Alpha 0-1, hold position, bullheads are en route ETA 2 minutes," Homeguard responded.

Anderson proceeds to open the hatch and climb out of the turret. He found that the sunlight burned his eyes a little, when his eyes had adjusted, he glanced over at the village and watch as the Altas forces escorted the workers and their families to the extraction area.

"Just another day of work sir?"

Anderson glances over to his right and sees his loader climb up to join him. His loader, Specialist Evan Malarkey, the Irish, redhead New Yorker was a large, heavily built man. Considering the fact his job mainly consisted of slinging 50 pound tank rounds and driving them into the cannon's feed tube within five to six seconds, it wasn't too surprising that the man's physique fit the bill.

"What, you getting sleepy?" Anderson asks raising an eyebrow.

"No," he snorts, "I only ask because Nate has started bitching like a teenage girl and I'm here to rescue the good sergeant before he cracks."

"Well good luck with that," Anderson mutters.

To emphasize his point, Anderson dips his head back into the tank and hears the banter between the gunner and the loader. He climbs back up and chuckles softly.

Malarkey then frowns and comments "The White Fang sure didn't put up much of a fight, did they?"

"It's not the White Fang I'm worried about," Anderson replies seriously, he then looks out to the edge of the forest expectantly. As if right on cue, a distant rumbling could be heard, it somewhat resembled thunder off in the distance. "It's just another town raid for them," he mutters.

Malarkey looks over and asks "You hear that?"

"Right on time," Anderson mutters.

The radio then spurs to life and in a panicky voice, Eagle 3-1 saying "Holy shit! All Nightmare victors, you have a massive Grimm formation heading for your position. Judging by their speed, they'll all over you in approximately 60 seconds."

"Alpha 0-1 you hear that?" Anderson shouts not taking his eyes off the treeline.

"We hear it," they cry, "The bullheads will be here in thirty, we need you to buy us time while we evacuate the civilians!"

"Homeguard, we have massive Grimm movement heading for friendly lines," Eagle 3-1 reported, "I count mostly beowolves with a handful of deathstalkers!"

"Roger that 3-1," Homeguard responded, "Will advise Omega 3-4 and source alternative for immediate re-attack, break."

"Bull get down!" Anderson orders, "All callsigns, load sabot! I want those deathstalkers taken out as soon as they come in range!"

"Got it!"

"Oh and Bull."

The New Yorker poked his head back up "Yeah?"

"See you on the other side."

He nods "You too sir," and then ducks back down,

"Nightmare 1-1, we are diverting the IFVs to your position!" Alpha 0-1 radioed.

A few seconds pass before Malarkey yells over the radio "Sabot, UP!"

"Gun's ready!" Streicher yelled.

Anderson watches Alpha 0-1 Kurganets-25 sliding up beside them along with a handful of mechs and other IFVs.

"Glad you could join us 0-1," Anderson smiles.

"Comrade, we can't let you have all the kills now can we?" the Russian laughs.

"All call signs!" Anderson barks, "Weapons free as soon as they come in range."

Anderson was soon joined as the other tanks climbed up out of their turrets to operate their machine guns. Right as the hoard crossed the tree line, the area was completely saturated as another pair of jets flew over emptying their combined armaments of bombs, missiles, and gatling cannons. The Grimm that survived still numbered in the hundreds and the tankers could now see them as they crossed the tree line into the open field. The first guns to sound off were the 30mm and 20mm auto canons of the IFVs and mechs as they tore into swarm.

"Deathstalkers!" a tanker shouts as the massive scorpions tore through the battered treeline running over the unfortunate beowolves that got in the way.

"All tanks pick your targets!" Anderson barks aggressively.

Very quickly, the monitor's thermal imaging was filled with individual infrared lasers each pointing at their own deathstalker.

"Ready! Fire!"

The opening volley devastating. The hardened chitin that surrounded the arthropod, creating an armored shell akin to modern tank armor. The deathstalkers were famous for being able to soaking up huge amounts of punishment including dust rockets and heavy shells without flinching. This proved useless at stopping the tungsten-carbide tipped penetrator traveling at 1,575 m/s. The 4.6 kilogram spear completely gutted the giant scorpion, slicing through from front to end with the ease of a needle going through a piece of fabric. Even after moving completely through the body from front to end, the round still had enough energy to several beowolves behind it. While for the deathstalkers, it was a simple 120mm hole in an otherwise pretty normal looking dead body, the beowolves that were unlucky enough to be in the way were completely disintegrated.

"Alpha 0-1, what is the status on the evacuation!" he cries as he lets loose the .50 cal.

His voice was almost blocked out by the constant automatic fire and occasional cannon.

"They're getting closer! I'm coming up!" Malarkey screams as he climbs up and mans his turret.

At this point, the Grimm were too close for the canon and everyone had resorted to using the coaxial mounted machine guns.

"We're almost done!" he cries, "We need just a few more minutes!"

"Basuda we don't have have a few more minutes!" Anderson screams.

"We barely even have one!" Malarkey screams as Streicher fires another sabot taking out a deathstalker.

"Sgt!" Anderson barks, "How are we looking?"

"Coaxial almost dry sir!" Streicher cries from behind the canon. "And we're out of sabots!"

Just then, massive roaring could be heard from behind the tree line.

"What the fuck is that?!" Kowalski screams as the tree line bursts open.

"All call signs, start backing up!" Anderson cries.

Three goliaths burst forth, gave a mighty roar and then started charging while the line slowly starts to back away.

"Malarky start loading HEAT!" Streicher barked.

"On it!" Malarkey then dives back into his seat and starts rapidly slinging them in.

The first round hit the giant elephant's side blowing out large chunks of flesh. The monster only seemed to get even more angry as it ran even faster.

"Go for the leg!" Kowalski cries.

Streicher complies and manages to land a round right above the lead goliath's knee blowing it clean off. The goliath tumbled forward, spun around for a bit before collapsing in an unmoving heap on the ground.

"Basuda you have 30 seconds until we are over run, if the last civilian isn't on the transport than they're sitting on your lap!" Anderson screams.

"They're on us!" a commander desperately screams. "Switch to the coaxial."

"I need suppressing fire on 1-4's position!" he screams.

The two nearby tanks move their turrets, peppering the area with machine gun fire.

"Sergeant, they're right on us!" Kowalski screams.

"Yeah yeah I got 'em!" he yells back as he switches to the coaxial and riddles the Grimm as they tried to climb onto the tank.

A couple manage to climb onto the turret only to be met with Anderson's .50. At point blank, the wolves bodies exploded spraying the front of the turret and upper armor with their black pigmented blood.

"Shit they're too close!" Malarkey curses. "I'm coming up!"

Anderson was soon joined by the loader as he mans his turret helping ward off the Grimm as they tried to overrun the tank.

"Anderson! The last civilian has boarded the bullhead!" Basuda alerted.

"All call signs, disengage and pull back! I repeat, disengage and pull back!" Anderson desperately barks. "WE ARE LEAVING!"

All the tanks hastily backed up at full throttle up until they reached the north wall of the town where they all promptly turned 180 degrees while under the cover of the other vehicles and soldiers.

When the Abrams was fully turned, Anderson promptly screams "Kowalski, get us the fuck out of here!"

The tank suddenly lurches forward and begins speeding off. The beowolves reach the armored vehicles and managed to keep up with them for a few moments before the tanks pull away leaving them behind in the dust. Anderson and Malarkey watched in relief as the wolves slowly grew smaller behind them until they disappeared from the horizon.

"So like I said," Malarky gasped, "Just another day at work huh sir?"

"Just another day," grinned Anderson.

"Nightmare 1-1, are you still there?" Alpha 0-1 asked.

"We're here," he relies, "All tanks are present and accounted for. Status on the convoy."

"Well…." he said, "We have four wounded, one critically, but the medic says he'll make it. The bullhead pilots reported all civilians are present and accounted for. "Chuv **a** k, I need a drink."

"That makes two of us," Anderson chuckles, "How's his majesty?"

"Senaviev? Hold on let me ask." He could be heard speaking Russian to what sounded like someone behind him, "Senaviev, Anderson govorit privet."

Anderson looks over to Malarkey with a perplexed look to which Malarkey shrugs.

"Okay, okay, he's waving," Basuda then turns back over and replies "He says hi."

Anderson deadpans "Roger." He then radios "Homeguard, this is Nightmare 1-1, mission was a success, over."

"Roger that Nightmare, congratulations," he relies. "The general will be meeting with you on your return to base for your debriefing."

"Roger that."

"So what did he say sir?" Streicher asks.

"Ironwood wants to meet with us for our debriefing."

"Son of a bitch," Malarkey mutters.

"Well great," Kowalski. "And then after that?"

"Obviously we'll find out when we get back Specialist," Streicher answers calmly.

"How much you wanna bet that we have some stupid ass ball after we get back to base?" Kowalski growns.

"Wouldn't be surprised," Anderson replies honestly. "SGT, what do you think."

Streicher thought for a moment before replying, "Personally? I don't think it will be as bad as how Kowalski's acting about it.."

"Really Sarge?" Kowalski scoffs, "You think going to a formal ball to listen to a bunch of rich people and politicians drone on about shit we really could give less of a damn about, is going to be alright?"

"Specialist, as far as I'm concerned," he rolls his eyes, "Dealing with the people who maintain our public rep and sign our salaries, budgets, and contracts are always worth our time."

The tank was silent for a moment as they processed what he had said.

Kowalski cocks and eyebrow and paraphrases "So, you want to go to the ball to kiss their asses and beg for more money?"

"Not the way I would word it….but yeah, pretty much," Streicher replies thoughtfully.

"And that is after we are forced to sit through the propaganda speech where we are shown off to the other nations and after you and Alex eat everything at the buffet table," Malarky taunts.

"I am not going to affirm nor deny those claims," Streicher replies curtly, "But hey, you can have the food to…. _if_ you get to the table before I do."

Anderson chuckles "Alright, alright, settle down children, let's just go and try to have a good time alright?"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

"And who are the men," an old man asks from the podium, "Who would charge fearlessly into certain death, to save those who could not defend themselves!"

*applause*

"Who were the men who we entrusted with a BOLD new form of warfare they proposed. A form of fighting….the likes of which none of us have ever seen?!"

*more applause*

"Manning these great armored beats with terrifying efficiency! Wiping the White Fang terrorists off the map and destroying any Grimm that dared to defy them on their great crusade! I'll tell you who!"

*even more applause*

"These are the men!" the man pints to the soldiers sitting behind him. "The founders of the Atlesian 1st Armored Division and the 3rd Infantry Division."

*lots off applause,m but not as much as there's going to be*

"Told you," Malarkey whispers to Streicher who rolls his eyes.

The applause seemed to become louder for each name called.

 **AU: Just imagine applause for every "..." because I am not writing that in.**

"Captain Grant Anderson….Captain Maxim Basuda….Master Sergeant Alexsandr Senaviev….Sergeant First Class Robert Streicher….Specialist Evan Malarkey….and finally, Specialist Nathaniel Kowalski! The heroes of Opportunity!"

* * *

After the speech, and a few more moments of droning on, the crowd dispersed and our soldiers were left to their own devices. When Malarkey reached the catering table, he found exactly who he was looking for. He saw immediately two people, standing alone in the middle of a giant table. The first man who was eating a sandwich, was simply massive in both height and bulk. Malarkey wore the man resembled more of a bear than a man. He had a head of black hair which was cut to a high fade with the top lengthened out into a comb over. The hair had a gradual fade that went from black, to gray, and into white at the edges. The greying hair combined with aged eyes and a scar over his left eye implied age and experience. The man next to him was only an inch shorter but much more lean. He had sandy blonde hair cut to a high-and-tight and a pair of gold, python like, eyes that were shrouded behind a pair of glasses. Along the sides of his neck poking out of the collar of his dress uniform was what looked like tattoos that resembled the scales of a snake. The one thing that set both of these men apart was this aura of age and maturity that did not belong to men this young. It was almost as if they were really adults who were shrunk into younger bodies. ***cough* *cough*** Malarkey makes his way over to the catering table rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"Alright, Alex, Robort," Malarkey greets.

"Oh Evan," the jolly Russian smiles warmly, "Come to join us have you?"

"Sup," Streicher replied politely while he piles food onto his plate.

"What haven't you two eaten yet?" he asks while glancing around the table.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" a waiter politely asks.

"Nyet," Senaviev shakes his head, "We are fine my good man."

Streicher silently nodded in agreement.

Malarkey glances down and points at the table and says "Actually, I wouldn't mind trying one of these sausages."

"Very good sir," the waiter nods and hands him a plate.

Malarkey stabs the sausage with his fork and takes a small bite. He raises his eyebrows in surprise and he nods in satisfaction.

"Mm, this is some pretty good meat right here," he muses as he cocks his winks at Senaviev and Streicher making them both snort.

The innuendo went completely over the waiters head as he prideful states "They were made from the finest-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Malarkey deadpans, "Telling me what's in it is what ruins the taste."

"My apologies sir," the waiter bowed his head apologetically.

* * *

"And you're sure, that's it?" Anderson frowns slightly.

"That's what the council offered," General Ironwood nods.

"Do we have a choice our are we being voluntold?" Anderson asks.

"Well, I am obligated to tell you, that you do have a choice," the general sighs, "But let's be real, we're not going to get the increase in the budget that we need for your department without an increase support for the military as a whole. I can only divert so much."

"So we're basically a PR stunt?" Anderson sighs as he feels a headache coming on.

"Basically," Ironwood commiserated. "I'm sorry, but they aren't going to help you unless you appease them first."

A man to the right of him decided to add in his two sense, "We're doing good right now, you and your team have definitely gotten the ball rolling, but there is still a few hurdles we need to cross. Getting public and government support for the military are chief among them, and frankly as of recently, you've become one of the main faces of our military."

"When do we leave?" Anderson asks.

"In a week," he replied.

"What about my department?" he asks.

"Leave that to me," the second man smiled, "I'll get everything you need since I suspected that you planned to work even when you're already attending Beacon."

Anderson quietly does the math in his head before nodding, "Alright, that's fine."

He turns and sees Kowalski waking up.

"Hey Kowalski," he calls over, Kowalski leans in as Anderson tells him the news.

Kowalski's eyes widen as he processes the information.

"You mid running that down to the others?"

He nods "Yes sir," and the walks off.

"Alright then, I'll be off, the council wants a meeting with me," Ironwood smiles "Have a good evening Captain."

"You too sir," he replies curtly before the general walks away leaving only Anderson and the other formally dressed man.

"Thank you for agreeing to go," the man said softly.

Anderson waves it off, "No it's fine, I figured we needed a change of scenery for a little bit anyway."

"There was one other reason I wanted you to go," the man adds, Anderson looks over as the man rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as he continues , "I don't think my daughter would be too happy with me if she found out that you had a chance to go to Beacon with her and I didn't make you go. There is no one else I would trust more than you and your team to keep her safe."

Anderson chuckles softly as he asks "Does she know yet?"

The man shakes his head and then opens his mouth as if to ask a question.

Anderson instantly knew the question and he replies "Yeah, sure, I can tell her."

"Thank you Grant," he smiles.

"Of course sir," Anderson then turns around to leave but the man had a few more things to say.

"One more thing," Anderson turns back, "You know, you've lived under my roof for the past two years since you all apeared in my living room with two of you close to dying. You are legally part of my family, and the girls would gladly defend that statement to the death."

"I know sir, and we could never…." Anderson starts but the man cuts him off with a wave.

"I was just wondering when are you going to start calling me father?" he asks warmly.

"Increase our budget and salaries?" Anderson jokes.

They both let out a laugh.

"I'll see what I can do," he smiles. "But I will need cooperation on your part."

"Every step of the way. Have a good night Jacques," Anderson says before walking away.

"Good night," Jacques Schnee murmurs, and when Anderson was out of hearing range, he whispers to himself "I think you might need it more than me."

* * *

Back with the trio at the catering table, they were still happily indulging themselves to the large piles of food. Then walks up a wolf faunus with hazel eyes in the same army dress uniform with a glass in hand.

"Maxim!" the jolly Senaviev greeted. "Good of you to join us!"

"Comrades," he nods politely. He glances around the table and at the plates and comments "I see you three are enjoying yourselves."

"Course we are, how about you?" Malarkey nods at the whiskey glass. "How's the hooch?"

He glances at the glass and shrugs, "Eh, it's not nearly as good as the vodka and moonshine that those two (points at Streicher and Senaviev) brew on their free time, but…." he takes a sip, "It's passable."

"Is that whiskey?" a voice asks.

Basuda turns and is perplexed to see Kowalski wearing a thousand yard stare. He slowly nods.

"I'm sorry, I'm just need to take tha…."

Kowalski grabs the glass out of Basuda's hand much to his bewilderment as well as to the others.

"Excuse me?" he manages to ask as Kowalski quickly downs the glass and placed it back into Basuda's hand.

"Thanks," he mutters as he moves to the table and quickly starts shoving food in his mouth.

"Kowalski why are….are you alright?" Streicher asks, little concerned.

Kowalski stops and then says casually "Yeah, it's just that we're going to Beacon."

He then goes back to his business leaving the rest dazed as the response was slowly sinking in.

In unison, they all asked "What?"

* * *

Anderson quietly made his way to the balcony where he saw a lone girl standing. The girl wore a simple waist length, sleeveless, white dress and had her snow white hair tied into the bun on the back of her head with gracefully fell to her hips. Anderson placed his beret onto his head before stepping out the door.

"Room for one more?" he calls out.

The girls lets out a soft gasp and whirls around to him where the two locked eyes. His brown eyes met her blue and the pair stood in silence for a split second. She silently nods. Anderson wordlessly makes his way to her side where she fully turns to him.

"Good, you actually wore something nice for this," she comments sharply as she straightens his jacket and smooths out the wrinkles on the sleeves.

"Well you were very persuasive, you, Winter, and your mother," he smiles cheekily.

"As we should be," she states sternly, "You also represent us now and I will not have you ruin our family reputation with your brutishness."

"Brutishness?" Anderson quirks an eyebrow.

"If not from you personally than the rest of you," she adds, "Evan and Nathaniel especially."

He then sighs in agreement, "Yeah I can't really disagree with that."

Then suddenly, Weiss stops her pampering of Anderson's uniform and cradles his hand into hers.

"I'm glad you made it back alright," she whispers, to which he nods. "Now out with it," she growls sternly at him.

"What?" he asks.

"You know what," she huffs, "Those grim tidings that you carry around like a sandbag."

"You're going to Beacon," he says finally after three seconds of silence.

"Yes?" she nods.

He then smiles and pats her shoulder reassuringly, "You won't be going alone."

His smile then grows wider as Weiss's eyes grew.

"You mean?"

"Yep."

Weiss in a manner completely uncharacteristic of her, lets out a cute squeal and wraps her arms around a surprised Anderson. She then quickly realizes what she just did and jumped away. Still blushing, she quickly passes it off like nothing happened.

"I mean good," she said, sounding slightly irritated, "At least someone competent is going to Beacon with me."

"There you two are!" a voice calls out.

"Speak of the devil," she growls as they both turn to see five other people.

"Kowalski, I assume they know now?" Anderson asks.

"Oh yeah, they know," he laughs.

Senaviev and Streicher walk up to the two hand them each a glass.

"Here," Senaviev says. "For celebration."

"Thank you," Weiss replies politely.

"A toast the seven of us as a family," Malarkey raised his glass.

Everyone raises their glasses.

"To the next four years of teenage bullshit."

"To bullshit," everyone repeated with a laugh.

* * *

HEAT- High Explosive Anti-Tank

OpFor- Opposing Force

TUSK- Tank Urban Survival Kit

MAV- Micro-Air Vehicle

APFSDS- Armor Piercing Fin Stabilized Discarding Sabot

IFV- Infantry Fighting Vehicle

APC- Armored Personnel Carrier

* * *

 **The Song That Inspired The Story (Also the theme.):**

"Kashmir"

 _Lead Zeppelin_

Oh let the sun beat down upon my face

With stars to fill my dream

I am a traveler of both time and space

To be where I have been

Sit with elders of the gentle race

This world has seldom seen

Talk of days for which they sit and wait

And all will be revealed

Talk and song from tongues of lilting grace

Sounds caress my ear

But not a word I heard could I relate

The story was quite clear

Oh, baby, I been flying

No, yeah, mama, there ain't no denyin'

Ooh, yeah I've been flying

Mama, mama, ain't no denyin', no denyin'

All I see turns to brown

As the sun burns the ground

And my eyes fill with sand

As I scan this wasted land

Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.

Pilot of the storm who leaves no trace

Like thoughts inside a dream

Heed the path that led me to that place

Yellow desert stream

My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon

I will return again

Sure as the dust that floats high in June

When movin' through Kashmir.

Oh, father of the four winds, fill my sails

Across the sea of years

With no provision but an open face

Along the straits of fear

When I'm on, when I'm on my way

When I see, when I see the way, you stay

When I'm down

When I'm down, so down

Ooh, my baby, ooh, my baby, let me take you there

Come on, come on

Let me take you there, let me take you there.

* * *

 **Author's Note: How in the world did an American tank, a Russian IFV, four American soldiers, and two Spetznaz operators land in Remnant and get to where they are now? As the song said, all will be revealed. If you somehow haven't figured it out, the six main characters aren't original from Remnant, they're all soldiers from Earth. Anyway, this story was literally stuck in my head and I could not get it out. The first mission is essentially the tank mission from** _ **Battlefield 3**_ **and the characters are either inspired by or flat out operators from** _ **Rainbow 6: Siege**_ **. This was mainly therapeutic for me, but I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you for reading.**


	2. Operation Bodkin

**Author's Note: Here we go. Man I hope to god the amount of time I spent on this actually amounted to something. This plus college and sorry I couldn't get this out quicker.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Operation Bodkin

ISIS has officially been pushed out of Syria and are on their last limbs in Iraq. The United Nations saw the potential to completely behead the ISIS leadership and put an to the group with one fell swoop. In one daring move to end the decade long war, coalition forces needed to plant troops rapidly while cutting off all avenues for escape. From there, the coalition forces will push to the presidential palace where the ISIS leader Yasir Al-Fulani is staging his last stand.

* * *

August 1st, 2025, 10,000 ft over Syria….

"Parachutes ready!" a soldier screams.

"Tank prepped!" another follows, "Clear the area for Armor drop!"

"All tank crews prepare for drop, ETA two minutes," the C-17 pilot, call-sign Valkyrie reported. "Baseplate, we're entering heavy anti-air traffic, half a click from the drop zone."

"Do not deviate from your course," Baseplate orders, "We need those tanks on point, Baseplate out."

Only seven years ago, it would have been deemed insane to drop a vehicle with its crew in it ready to fight, not that, that ever stopped the Russians. Then, the US military realized that they needed to get armor to the frontlines much quicker as the fighting in the middle east increased in intensity. The Military, with not enough time to develop a new armored vehicle all together, they had DARPA take a look back at old projects, particularly the LAPES (Low Altitude Parachute Extraction System). An old system that would have vehicles ejected out the back ramps of an aircraft with a drag-chute. The last actual tank that the US ever deployed with this method was the M551 Sheridan back in 1996, and the heaviest load ever dropped was a minuteman ballistic missile weighing in at 43 tons. The Abrams that they wanted to deploy, were almost doubled in weight, weighing in at 70 tons, sure to shred any amount of parachutes to be used. With no other options, DARPA looked to the Mars Curiosity rover from 2012 for inspiration. Within three years, they had a working prototype and it successfully slung a combat ready Abrams out from the back of a C-17 with little stress on both the plane, tank, and crew. After the first test, then followed a platoon, and soon, multiple countries began adopting the system with Russia building their own because….they were Russia.

"Hey, all of you," Anderson calls out. Malarkey and Streicher look back at their commander and he continues, "Good luck, all of you. I'll see you on the other side."

They then climb into their proper fighting positions instead the faithful machine that has protected them for years and in return, they took care of her. She was a standard M1A2 Abrams SEP v4 painted in desert camo. On the word that they would be storming the capital city, the old girl was outfitted with a TUSK system which came with a whole slew of upgrades that included: explosive reactive armor panels, reinforced rear armor, and a turret rigging system that allowed Anderson to fire and control the old, venerable, mounted M2 Browning HMG from the safety of inside the turret without having to climb out of the hatch exposing himself. The outside of the tank had multiple old scars and dents that spoke of the old girl's previous battle experience from both the War on Terror, and the Iraq War. Finally, embolized in black along the 6.6 meter long barrel of the mighty M256 Rheinmetall 120 mm smoothbore cannon, was the words "Grim Sky," symbolizing the oncoming storm with the intent to evict a wrath of thunder and lighting upon those who dare stand in her way.

"Weapons are online," Streicher reported, "And the GPS is functional."

Outside the tank, soldiers all around were scrambling doing their final checks on his tank and the one in front.

One soldier climbs onto the tanks and looks into the camera, "Tanks prepped and ready!" and he gives the thumbs up.

The soldier is almost thrown off as an explosion shakes the plane sending a couple of plates tumbling.

A soldier runs over and shouts "I got this side," another soldier grabs the other and he says "Ready, lift!"

"We're reaching the dropzone, all tanks prepare for drop!" Valkyrie announced for one final time.

"Releasing the tank!" a soldier screamed as the ramp opened and he pulled the release lever.

The crew of Nightmare 1-1 hung on for dear life as the tank was picked up by gravity and pulled out the back of the plane. Anderson's stomach dropped and for a brief moment, he felt the tingling sensation of weightlessness as the tanks "flew." The few seconds that the tank was airborne felt like an eternity and Anderson felt like he had all the time in the world. The crew watched as the planes flew overhead and flak rounds detonated filling the sky with black smoke. The crew found themselves entranced by the chaotic beauty before them before they were violently thrust back into reality by the tank landing. With the engine hot, the mighty metal beast hit the ground running, all around them they could see the rest of the brigade landing and joining them. All above, amiss the AAA fire were a multiple sortie of jets and bombers making their runs while the brigade was shadowed by countless IFVs, APCs, helicopters of varying types, and many other vehicles. When his company had reached the rally point, that was when the next orders were given.

"This is Nightmare 6-6, we have a lot of ground to cover so we're going to have to split up by platoon for each main highway."

"Roger that," Anderson answers back, "Nightmare 3-1 is taking the highway on the immediate left."

After an acknowledgment from the company commander, the platoon began to slowly make their way down the road.

"Remember, everyone one in this AO is deemed hostile," Nightmare 6-6 warned. "Shoot on sight!"

"Sir?" Streicher asks, "Everyone?"

"6-6, say again, over," Anderson asks.

"Everyone," 6-6 emphasized, "If they're any civilians left, it's a high possibility that they aren't friendly."

The crew shared a weary look before Anderson responds "Got it."

Though Force-Recon and Wild Weasel units had taken out the majority of the ISIS anti-air, the ground forces still represented a serious threat to the coalition. So for the brigade, speed was critical, especially if any of the rumors were true, someone somewhere had said ISIS had gotten their hands on some old Soviet era tech and the UN feared the worse. NEST teams were deployed on just the slight chance that the Islamic State managed to get their hands on a WMD, let alone a nuclear warhead. The resulting detonation would bring a potential death toll that hadn't been seen since the end of the Second World War. As Anderson's platoon passed through the streets the crew of Nightmare 3-1 came upon something that resembled hell on Earth. ISIS was on their deathbed and they wanted to let the world know it. It wasn't just fighting in every city block, nor was it in every street, nor even from building to building. No, there were firefights breaking out in literally multiple _floors_ of a building. Malarkey raked his brain for anything he could compare the carnage to and one particular WW2 battle came to mind.

"It's like fucking Stalingrad in here," he rasps out.

The others nodded grimly in agreement. The armored vehicles were literally sitting ducks in the narrow streets meaning that the infantry had to go in and clear out the main ambush points beforehand. This forced the armored convoys to hold position and wait as the IFVs and infantry went ahead. The crew were tense as they could hear faint gunfire through the tanks speakers and the constant radio chatter from their comrades made it clear that the battles for the streets were taking a number on their forces. The crew wanted nothing more than to jump out and charge in after their fellow soldiers, but they also knew that if the tanks went down, then there went the armored support for the rest of the invading force. As the convoy moved down the street, all around they could see soldiers lining up to each door of a building with one squad per door. Each squad would clear the door with a grenade before they systematically moved on. Every now and then, the troops would call on Nightmare 3-1 for fire-support, usually when they got pinned down by a machine gun nest our sniper fire. The crew would respond with a well placed round, practically collapsing the building.

* * *

"To any near allied forces," a panicked voice screams, "This Alpha Six! We are surrounded by enemy forces in the bog! We require immediate assistance over!"

"Roger that Alpha Six, this is Nightmare 3-1, we read you!" Anderson replies quickly, "We have your position and we're on our way!"

"Nightmare 3-1 we are diverting a portion of the convoy with you, proceed to Alpha Si's position!" Baseplate ordered.

"Yes sir! Nightmare 3-1 out."

Thus began the quick push with the Bradleys, Strykers, HUMVEEs, and MRAPPs spearheading the convoy blowing anything that came near them. As the closest forces at only three quarters of a mile, they were the only hope the platoon had. After a few turns and a detour with sporadic fighting down the roads, they soon found themselves approaching an overpass.

"Nightmare 3-1 we're taking heavy fire on our position north of the overpass! Where the hell are you?" the marine screams.

"We're almost there, hang one!" Anderson cries.

"There!" Streicher remarks as he marks an opening big enough for the convoy. "I can see the platoon!"

As they passed under the overpass, they could see rpgs flying all around them with a distinct line of flak fire shooting up into the sky.

"Fuck it," Anderson growls, "We're going through the building."

"What?" the IFV leader questioned incredulously.

"All vehicles, prepare for push," Anderson barked as his crew scrambled into position, "We're going in hard and fast!"

With a nod from his crew, he continues.

"On my mark, 3….2….1….MARK!"

Kowalski slammed down on the throttle and the tank lurched forward blasting through the small concrete structure. They soon came out into the bog quickly making their way to the marines position out in the middle while taking out the rear flank thus giving them an avenue of escape. The convoy fanned out taking cover behind the many dips and craters that littered the entire park.

"Alpha Six, what's your status over!" Anderson barks as the tank roles up providing fire for the exhausted marines.

"We're still taking fire from the north sir!" he responds, "The vehicles are still good."

Anderson then replays his orders to the convoy "Contacts to the east and more flanking to the west! Hold the perimeter and keep our exit clear!"

"Alpha Six what was your mission!" Anderson asks.

"We needed to clear out an enemy ZPU north of our positions. Command is not going to send choppers over until it's out!"

Anderson nods "Roger, we'll stay and provide support while your team moves in to take it out, when it's down we'll call in air support."

Outside the tank, the crew could see the marine lieutenant diverting a squad over to complete the original objective while the rest stayed to provide cover for the vehicles. After what seemed like an eternity of intense fighting. The group, much to their relief, finally heard the sound of grace from the demolition squad.

"We're planting the C4 on the gun!" the SGT reported. "Detonating!"

Behind on of the buildings, everyone saw the bright flash signaling the anti-craft gun's destruction.

"Nightmare 3-1! The ZPU is down and I've got air support on the way, but they need our exact location."

"Roger that, cover us while we lase the target!" Anderson shouts. "Marking the target!"

Streicher nods as he turns on his IR laser allowing Anderson to tag the enemy positions entrenched in the apartment complexes overlooking them.

"Okay, positive ID on your sparkle," a viper responded cheerfully "We're comin' hot from the southeast. Standby."

As if on cue, the exterior microphones on the tank picked up a faint humming noise. The crew all simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief as they all knew exactly what was coming. The humming, which began like the buzzing of a bee, quickly grew louder as the viper pilots drew closer.

"RPGs on the north apartment complex!" a marine screamed.

The crew scrambled to get the cannon aligned but right when Streicher was about to squeeze the trigger, a missile fired completely demolishing half of the city block. By then, the sound had grown into a loud thundering as the viper flew by the building unleashing a stream of fire from its chin mounted 20 mm Gatling cannon. The viper could be seen breaking out of it's fly by and performing a 180 degree turn as it goes in for another pass. During that time, a second viper comes in repeating the same process, this time almost completely leveling the rest of the buildings. 20 mm shells fell from the sky like rain and the soldiers could feel the explosions from the missiles vibrate through the tank and shake their bones. It was an almost euphoric experience for the soldiers as they watched the full might of the American Industrial War Machine rain down an ungodly field of fire upon the helpless enemy soldiers.

When the choppers had completely emptied their payload, one of them jokingly said "Uh two, you see anyone left down there?"

The apartment complexes then collapsed down raining the troops with dust and sand as if the message wasn't clear enough.

"Negative, we got em," the second viper pilot responds happily.

"Roger that. All targets destroyed and we're outta here. Good luck boys. Out," with one more perimeter sweep, the vipers flew off back to base.

"Base Plate, LZ is clear, we are continuing with mission," Anderson reported as the armored vehicles slowly pulled out and back onto the min road.

"Roger that, I'm sending in engineers to assist the marines with their mission. Goodwork, out."

"Alright, all Nightmare victors, regroup back at the main road, 3-1 out."

"Baseplate this is Nightmare 3-1, we are en route to the Presidential Palace," Anderson reported, "We're not missing this party."

"We got hostiles moving in from the north!" the forward recon group reported.

"To all Hitman victors, this is Nightmare 1-1, we are clear of the bog, we are abounding to the next destination, command doesn't want us to take anymore chances," Anderson reported to the convoy.

"Nightmare 3-1, this is Hitman 1-1," the lead Bradley reported in, "We are proceeding forward down the right and left flanks to flush out the enemy positions."

"Roger that Hitman, we'll hold down the center and provide supporting fire, out," Anderson acknowledged. "Twitch let's roll out, keep a minimum of 10 meters behind the rear HUMVEE."

"Yes sir," Kowalski nods and then pushes down on the throttle.

"Nightmare," Hitman radios in as they roll up to what looked like a residential shopping district. "We got a possible ambush area up front. We'll have the infantry dismount and clear the area before you move ahead, over."

"Watch for silhouettes on the rooftops!" the platoon leader, designated Bravo 2, bellowed.

"Roger that," Anderson replies, "We're gonna try and put some rounds in those buildings. Stand clear."

The vehicles split up as they each engaged their own separate targets. Anderson then notices movement in what of the buildings directly in front of the convoy.

Anderson switches to his crew radio and barks "Bandit! Two story building 1 o'clock, second floor!"

"Target acquired!" Streicher reports as he lines of the sights.

"Fire!"

Grim Sky fires, completely removing the second floor from the old office building. She then pauses as Streicher waits his commander for further targets.

"Up!" Malarkey screams as he closes the loading hatch on the cannon.

The tank, with combined fire from the rest of the vehicles make short work of the enemy entrenched positions. This gave the infantry ample suppressing fire as they continued to push forward up the street in a bounding movement.

"Bandit, two story building, 11 o'clock, ground floor!"

"Target acquired!"

"Fire!"

"Up!"

With each round fired, the infantry and IFVs slowly fought up the street until they reached the corner.

"Bravo Two we're going up!" Anderson announced.

"Roger that!" he screams back as the tank inches forward.

"Two Story building, 11:30, balcony!"

"Target acquired!"

"Fire!"

"Up!"

When the dust settled, there was hardly a building left standing and the streets were littered with….everything. The convoy sadly didn't come out unscathed, among the destroyed cars and debris; lied bodies, both allied, enemy and civilian. Out of all the vehicles, the convoy lost two HUMVEEs and the Stryker was disabled forcing the crew to abandon it.

"Bravo 2 what is your status?" Anderson asks, "We clear to advance, over?"

"Roger that!" he responded, "We're green, move up and hold position at the bend, over!"

"Roger, movin'," Anderson replied back. "Twitch, you heard him, role her out."

"Yes sir," he responded as he moves the tank into the designated position.

"3 story building, 10 o'clock, balcony!"

"Target acquired!"

"Fire!" Anderson screamed and the cannon let off another round bloating a pair of fighters that were preparing an rpg.

"Up!"

The convoy soon came to a stop seeing as the enemy fire was not going to let them proceed any further without taking more than necessary casualties. That was when the lead Bradley radioed in the dismounted infantry with plan.

"Bravo, I suggest head out back and flank 'em from the right," said Hitman, "We'll keep them pinned down from here."

On the sidewalk, soldiers could be seen heading down the alleyways in between the buildings. The soldier climbed over fences, through backyards and staircases clearing out enemy personal. Soon the fighting slowed down as the soldiers pushed the enemy back behind the intersection.

"Nightmare hold up," Hitman warned, "They're pulling' back, it could be a trap."

"Roger that," Anderson responded, "Holding position."

The soldiers quickly breached into the building at the end of the street and made their way to the blown out top floor. The opening gave them a good view of the intersection, from there they start to lay down suppressive fire on the enemy positions.

"Enemy tank comin' up the road!" a soldier screams frantically.

"Nightmare, Bravo-2! T-72 behind the building at you 10 o'clock! Can you engage, over!" they requested.

"Roger that Bravo Two!" Anderson then orders, "Bandit, "You got him?"

Kowalski brings the tank to a stop at the corner behind a building hidden from the enemy tank. Bandit quickly points the turret at the building giving the cannon a straight shot from tank to tank.

"Yeah, I got him on thermals!" he shouts back, "Switching to manual."

"Nightmare you need to hurry!" the Lt. shouts frantically as the T-72 slowly brings its cannon up to where the soldiers were.

"Target acquired!"

"Fire when ready!"

"Takin' the shot!"

Bandit fires and the round slides through the steel door and building wall effortlessly before slamming into the side of the enemy tank. The tank sparks for a split second and them immediately blows up launching the turret into the air.

"Woo! Yeah! Woo! Yeah!" a soldier cheers.

"Holy shit! Did you see that?!" another asks incredulously.

"That's what I'm talking about, baby!" a third claps proudly.

The Lt. laughs triumphantly and says "Nice shootin' Nightmare. Lot' o secondaries. Now let's get the hell out of here."

"Coming' though," Anderson laughs as the tanks plows aside cars in the street. "Roger Bravo 2, So...uh, hehe, are there yet?"

"The enemy is retreating back to Highway 4 and we should make visual contact shortly with 2nd platoon," the Lt. chuckles.

As if on cue, a chinook followed by a pair of blackhawks and apaches arrive to drop off 2nd platoon.

"Lt. Anderson!" Base Plate reported, "The Task Force is moving to capture Al-Fulani! I want all convoys to proceed there as planned! This is it people, over."

"Roger that sir, proceeding to regroup with the main force."

* * *

"We're almost there, come on let's go!" Hitman growls as they push further up the highway. "All forces, press they attack, they're falling back!"

The vehicles slowly move forward as the task force moved their way up to one of the cities only hotels.

"Wait, wait, wait, what's going on?" Anderson mutters as he watches enemy soldiers in the distance running around the entrance of the building.

"Say again Nightmare, we didn't catch that, over," Hitman requested.

"You didn't see that?" Anderson asked worriedly, "They're doing something with the building! Over."

"Bravo Two, you think you can take a look, over," Hitman asks.

"Roger, moving to the hotel! Everyone, stay sharp, it could be a trap. Bravo Two out!"

The Abrams comes to a stop a little bit past the hotel while the HUMVEEs move in to unload the soldiers. Then, the radios went silent and there was this deafening boom that completely rattled the tank and left everyone's ears ringing as the tank violently lurched forward.

"What the fuck was that?" Malarkey cries.

Anderson looks through the camera then instantly grew pale and he looked up with eyes filled with fear!

"Drive!" he screams. "Get us out of here!"

Kowalski snapped back into reality and he slams down on the throttle kicking the tank into gear. As the tank started moving away, the three other members of the grew watched with gaping mouths as the giant hotel slowly started to collapse on their position.

"Holy shit!" Streicher manages to wheeze out.

"Go, go!" Anderson screams again.

"Twitch drive man! Drive!" Malarkey added as well.

"She's moving as fast as it can!" he screams back.

"Oh son of a bitch!" Malarkey curses.

Anderson looks back to see the building almost collapsing on top of them.

"Everyone hold on!" Anderson cries.

The crew braces while silently praying to every deity they know to get them out of there alive. The Abrams came to a stop as the dust from the collapse began to settle.

"Hey guys, you still there?" he asks. "Everyone alright?"

"We're good," a weathered Anderson replies, "You?"

"Still in one piece," he replies.

"Bravo 2, this is Nightmare 3-1, do you copy?" he calls out, nothing. So he tries again, "Bravo 2, this is Nightmare 3-1, do you copy. Baseplate this is Nightmare 3-1, we have taken massive casualties, do you read?" Once gain, the tank was only met with static.

"The coms must have gotten his when the building went down," Malarkey sighs.

"So are we on our own?"Streicher asks and Anderson nods solemnly in agreement.

"What's our next move sir?" Kowalski asks.

"We proceed with the mission," Anderson replies. "Try to regroup with the main task force."

"What about Bravo 2 and Hitman?" asks Malarkey. "We're not leaving them are we sir."

"We don't really have a choice it'll be almost impossible for us to our way back around to their position, and with our radio out we'll be sitting ducks," Anderson says solemnly. "We're better off if we go and bring help back to them. I don't like this anymore than you do, but we can't stay here."

"Yes sir," they respond.

"Alright, let's get out of here, Kowalski take it slow," he orders.

"Yes sir."

"Malarkey with me," Anderson order.

"Sir?" he asks.

"We're gonna take a look at the antenna," he replies.

"Yes sir," Malarky reaches down and grabs a tool kit.

As the tank made its way down the empty highway, it quickly was made aware that there was pretty much no other living thing around them. It was as if everyone had up and left and the only signs of life were the distant gunfire and explosions that felt miles away. The hatches soon open up as the payer climb back down into the tank.

"How is it?" asks Streicher.

Malky looks back and Anderson gives him the go ahead.

"Long range communications are out of the question," Malarkey signed, "Short range should still work. Hopefully someone is close enough to hear us."

"What if it's an enemy?" asks Streicher.

"It's a risk we're going to have to take," Anderson takes one last look at his crew before broadcasts, "This is Nightmare 3-1, we've been separated from our task force and we request assistance from any nearby friendly forces."

Once again only static, Anderson repeats the message again and is still only met with silence. The crew was on the verge of giving up but suddenly, the radio sparks to life.

"Hello," a voice that the crew recognized as foreign responds. "Hel….do you copy…."

"This is Nightmare 3-1, say again you're breaking up, over" Anderson quickly replies.

The voice clears up revealing a Russian accent.

"Nightmare 3-1, this is Alfa 01, Russian Spetsnaz, we read you, over!" he replies.

"Oh thank god, Afla you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice," Anderson laughs.

"You too comrade, but I'm afraid we have some bad news, over," he then continues.

Anderson frowns and says "What do you mean, over."

"Our position is currently pinned down by ISIS forces, so we are unable to make our way to your position sadly, and our mission is considered top secret, so we can't actually help you, over."

"Well maybe we can work a compromise," Anderson offers.

"What do you have in mind Nightmare?"

"We need to link up with the main force, you need back up while," Anderson explains, "So how about instead, we could provide you cover while you evac your forces, all we ask is that we get to use your long range radio, ours was damaged."

A long second of silence followed as the Russian thought about it.

"Sounds good," he replies, "Where are you?"

"We're down Highway 4 at the intersection with 8," he replies.

"Oh!" he laughs, "We're literally a block away from you! Alright, proceed down the road until you come across a bend, if you see a bunch of old Soviet signs, then you're heading in the right direction. From there it's just a straight run."

"Sounds good!"

"Just remember, don't step out of the tank unless we give you direct permission," he warns, "It should help prevent any international incidents should they occur."

"Roger, making our way to you."

"See you soon, Alfa 01 out."

"Sir, should we really be doing this?" asks Streicher, "Like what are they doing here?"

"Sure beats wandering around the streets until we're found," Manarlkrey snorts.

Anderson remained stoic as the tank drew closer to the fighting.

"Uh sir, is that what I think it is?" Kowalski asks as they gape at the complex.

"It's an old soviet base," Streicher murmurs.

"Alright, we got work to do," Anderson reminded as he watched rpgs fly at the base.

The tank went in guns blazing catching the enemy completely off guard, and very quickly with the combined efforts of the base defenders and the Abrams, the attacks were soon pushed away. The tank made its way to the front gate where they were created by a handful Russian IFVs and trucks. A man motioned for them to proceed and them rolled into the warehouse. When the tank came to a stop, the man waves and Anderson opens the hatch.

"Stay frosty," Anderson warns, not trusting their newfound allies just yet.

"Good, the captain said you'd be coming!" the man called out, "You wouldn't by any chance happen to have a medic with you?"

The crew share a glance between each other before, Anderson replies, "No, but we'll see what we can do."

"Alright," Anderson looks back at the crew, "You three stay here, help the Russians evacuate."

Anderson grabs the med kit and then hops out of the tank. As he hits the ground, he walks past Russian soldiers as they hurriedly move past him carrying a large crate before securing it in the back of a truck. Anderson watches as the truck drives away and he is greeted by the same soldier. The man politely raises his hand for a shake and Anderson wearily accepts it.

He then says softly, "This way."

He then leads Anderson down the corridors.

"How bad is it?" Anderson asks as he looks at the wounded all around him.

"I have full confidence that we would have made it out there on our own, but I don't know what would have happened to or wounded and those who refused to leave them," he replies solemnly. "We're like you," he smiles sadly "Never leave a fallen comrade as you say."

They come to a stop and the Russian opens the door and the pair come into an old war room with a man in the middle looking at a map.

"Сэр, американский командир здесь," he announced, (Sir, the American commander is here.)

The man looks up revealing an aged, wrinkled face, he smiles warmly.

"Thank you for coming, sorry for the short notice," he apologizes.

"What do you need us to do?" Anderson asks.

"Straight to the point then," he laughs, "My men need time, as much as you can buy. We need time to secure and move our wounded. Some of my men have volunteered to stay behind and help you. The enemy forces are going to attack again for sure, meaning we need to leave as soon as possible."

Very slowly, the dominoes begin to fall into their place.

* * *

Streicher and Senaviev rushed down the narrow corridors of the old base. All that was left was the tank and one lone IFV.

"Bandit where are you?!" Anderson cried into the radio.

It had been only five minutes since the last transport left with the last of the wound, it wouldn't be long before the enemy forces amassed for one last attack. Turns out the through the garage was secure, the actual entrance was breached long before and it wouldn't be long before they had lost the depot as well. Noticing that their chances of leaving were shrinking, the Americas were adamant in leaving, but for some reason, the Russian captain refused to leave.

"Almost there!" he cried back.

"The left!" Senaviev thundered.

The pair came to one last door and were immediately treated with the remnants of a great firefight. All along the hallways were decorated with bullet holes and bodies from both Russian soldiers and the insurgents that managed to get in. What caught their eyes was a large structure that resembled the Stargate from the only TV series.

"Over here!" Anderson yells.

The pair turn and see three people, the old captain lied still on the floor not breathing with a bullet hole in his throat. On the wall was Basuda who was coughing up blood as Anderson hastily treated the knife wound to his chest.

"What the hell is that?!" Streicher cries.

"It's why we came here," Senaviev.

"It got hit and is going unstable, help me carry him," Anderson orders.

"Comrade you're bleeding!" Senaviev cried, worried about his new allies.

Streicher's eyes widened as he saw the red liquid leaking out from holes in Anderson's arm and leg.

"That's why I need you help! Careful with the wound, he's got a collapsed lung!"

Knowing what to do, Senaviev picked up the Russian Lt., Basuda, into and arms carry while Streicher picked up Anderson into a supported carry.

"What about the captain?" Streicher asks.

"Leave him," Basuda rasps, "There's nothing we can do for him."

The four then moved as fast as they could back the the depot.

"We gotta go now!" Malarkey cries while pointing at the sparks flying from the door.

Right as Senaviev lowers Basuda into the tank, the door explodes revealing a small group of enemy combatants. Before they could react, one of the combatants fired his rifle hitting Streicher in the upper thigh. Streicher lets out a pained scream as he collapses to the floor. Anderson, without another thought, throws Streicher up with a pained scream. He goes up just high enough for Senaviev to scoop him up.

"Start the tank!" Anderson screams as he climbs aboard.

The tank whines up as the turbine begins spinning and Senaviev and Malarkey spray the enemy with machine gun fire buying the crew precious seconds. The tank instantly charges forward before the words "Drive!" even left Anderson's lips. The unstable gate finally exploded sending a giant blinding white shock wave engulfing the whole crew and the whole base collapsed into what looked like a miniature black hole. When the dust cleared, the ISIS forces cautiously moved forward to the gaping pit in the ground where the base used to sit.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you for reading and like I said earlier, I hope you enjoyed it. If you did like it and want to read more, please follow and favorite the story and feel free to put your input in. This is the first time I'm branching out as much as I am in writing, so I'll need as much help as I can get. Thank you. Warning for next, possibly several chapters, it is to consist going to be a info dump, character bios, and catching the story back up to the starting timeline. Just a heads up. See you then and remember...Big Brother is Watching.**


	3. This Isn't Kansas

**Author's Note: I should be worried about not having enough content to flesh out my story and characters. Yet somehow I've managed to spontaneously come up with what I need to finish a chapter, so I guess we'll see how it goes.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't know RWBY.**

* * *

This Isn't Kansas

"Is it really going to be that kind of day today?" Weiss Schnee shouts loudly into the air while lounging in her the patio of her family manor.

She patiently waits for a response before she drops her arms and sags her shoulders in a defeated sigh.

"Figures," she mutters to herself.

Simply put, Weiss was bored, as usual. It was same as it has been, the last 14, now going on 15 years had been nothing one would call a…. _normal_ upbringing. Since as far back as she could remember, her life has been 100% controlled by everyone but herself. For years, she has been meticulously regimented, drilled, dieted, groomed, and breed to be the ideal heiress the world would come to expect from the massive cooperation that her family owned. Countless tutors, trainers, and instructors flowing through her house, molding her into the perfect daughter at the expense of her childhood. Weiss at one point even compared herself to cattle. She was even robbed of the opportunity to have an actual friend, instead she was painted with an already pre-rendered image that slandered any chance of an unbiased, preformed opinion from the media. The only interactions with others her age were from other wealthy families and they were exactly what Weiss had come to expect from her kind of upbringing: arrogant, stuck up, entitled pricks with giant silver spoons shoved up their asses. At some point, the question of whether or not her family actually loved her did come up, which Weiss was sure they did. There were the rare moments where they uttered the famous three worded sentence, her family had one hell of a way to show it though. All Weiss could really do is to just hold out until she turned 17 and finally have a chance at freedom. For years, Weiss had silently wished for someone or something to come and break up the stupid cycle, but nothing ever came.

It was to her surprise, when the entire front yard was engulfed in a blinding bright light. Weiss shielded her eyes as a giant beam of energy slammed down. When the light faded, Weiss sat up straight and gasped. In her yard sat a massive metal beast with the largest cannon she had ever seen. It was painted in a tan color and the cracked marble tiles underneath the metal tracks only hinted at the mass of this large vehicle. Behind the vehicle sat a slightly smaller, forest colored one that sat on wheels instead of tracks. While the second vehicle was clearly some kind of troop carrier, the first vehicle was clearly only built for one purpose, war. Right now a million questions were flying through her mind, chief of all of these was "Who built it?" It clearly wasn't from Atlas, they would never build machines nearly as….brutal as this, and besides, its design didn't match anything she had ever seen on from the other kingdoms, let alone Remnant. She did know or thing though; and it was that the machines, even though simple and primitive on appearance. These….war machines, they held a feeling of pride and power combined with a reform refined quality and production streamline. It was as of someone took a simply idea and then refined and evolved it into perfection, it was ingenious. Something like that could only had come from a place with substantial economic, logistical, and military power; and that was what scared her the most. Who would even need to build such horrible weapons like this. Weiss's thoughts came to a grinding halt once she noticed the moving figures on top of the first machine. All she could tell from her vantage point was that their gear and uniform didn't look like anything that had come out of Atlas, that and they had looked like they had literally just walked out of a meat grinder.

* * *

As soon as the light died down, Seneviev knew they were no longer in Syria.

"Comrades wake up!" he barked.

The American officer was the first to awaken, and instead of asking questions he first took out a tourniquet from the pocket of the downed Sargent and wrapped it around his upper thigh.

"What the hell happened?!" he asks. "Kowalski! Status!"

"I don't know what happened sir!" he cries while climbing out from the hatch. "The sensors are all going haywire!"

"Rely on your senses, not your tech," Senaviev chided.

"Senaviev, help me lower him," Malarkey requested.

"Of course," he replies and begins helping Malarkey lower the wounded.

Once they were all off the tank, the group started making their way for the front door of the manor. Kowalski got a good look at his surroundings and was dumbfounded by what he saw.

"Wh….How!...Wh…." he sputtered.

"Kowalski come on!" Anderson growls grabbing onto his collar and dragging him along. "We have more pressing issues!"

The team walks onto the patio completely missing Weiss who quietly sat there, petrified like a deer in headlights.

"Where are we?" Senaviev while looking at the marble walls.

"Well wherever we are, it's definitely not Kansas," Malarkey grunts.

Anderson bangs on the front door and they wait for a moment, no one answered. Kowalski looks to the right of the door and spots what looked like a doorbell. He reaches over and rings it and the door almost immediately opens up revealing a neatly dressed butler. The butler, at the sight of the six soldiers completely covered in dirt, grime, and blood; was surprised to say the least.

"Sir, we don't mean to intrude," Anderson starts, "But we need immediate medical attention."

"I'm so-sorry," the butler stutters, "I don't-"

"Please sir," Anderson begged, "I have men in critical condition, I just need to use your phone or something."

"I-I'm going to need to talk with Master Schnee-"

"Klein," a soft voice croaked out.

All the eyes snapped to a young pale skinned girl, with pale blue eyes, and long white hair pulled back into an off-center on the right side pinned with an icicle shaped tiara.

"Let them in."

"Of course madam," he bows respectively.

"Thank you," Anderson breathed to her before they walked in.

"How long has she been sitting there?" Kowalski whispers while Malarkey shrugs.

* * *

"Mom! Dad!" she shouts loudly as she rushes in, "Winter, anyone!"

"Weiss we're right here what is it?" her father, Jacques Schnee shouts.

"Honey we heard you shouting are you alr-Oh my!" her mother, Willow.

"They need help!" Weiss shouts.

"Klein call the paramedics!" Schöne cries.

"Of course madam," he bows and rushes off for the phone.

"They don't like normal Atlas soldiers," Willow whispers to Winter and Jacques.

"That's because they aren't," Winter murmurs suspiciously, "I have no idea where they are from."

"Call the General," Jacques replies cooly.

"Already on it," Winter replies as she pulls out her scroll.

"Who's in charge of you?" asks Jacques.

"I am sir," one of them answered as he limps forward, Weiss notices that he too had been shot, though wasn't bleeding nearly as bad as the other soldiers. "Sir, we're very sorry to intrude on you like this, by my men here have been in a…." Anderson stops and carefully picks his words, "A horrible accident and you were the only ones we could find in the entire area."

"General Ironwood called, Father," the Winter announced, "He'll be arriving by bullhead with the paramedics in 10 minutes."

"Aw shit," one of the soldiers curses, "Sir, that's not soon enough time."

"Sir," the leader looks and Jacques, "You have no obligation to helps us, but please, I just need somewhere to stabilize my men. After that I can answer any question you may have for us."

Weiss looks in between the two as Jacque firmly nods.

"Bring them here," Willow instructed sternly.

Weiss glances around at the rest of the group and takes note. There were six of them and two of them had completely different uniforms from the rest, they had a more forest pattern while the others were tan colored like a desert, and two more of them were wounded. One of them was gently placed on a wall and was struggling to breath, which Weiss attributed to a vicious looking stab wound on his chest. The second was being carried by another two as they were being led into the dining room, from what Weiss could tell, the man was bleeding heavily from his leg from what looked like a bullet wound.

"This was no accident," Jacques whispers to his eldest daughter.

"No, it wasn't," she agreed. "They were attacked," she adds as if stating the obvious.

"The question is, who were they fighting?" he finishes.

"On the table ma'am?"

"Just clear it off," she replies. "Don't worry about breaking anything."

The team gently lays the bleeding man onto the table.

Back with the other injured man, Winter and Weiss watched in horror as the man was practically choking to death.

"Medkit, now," one of the men instructs, the soldier opens up his bag, the leader reaches in and pulls out some type of canister.

"What's wrong with him?" asks Winter, put off by the blood.

"Punctured lung, can't breath," the replies as he unlatches the nozzle to the canister.

Winter quickly notices some was wrong and asks "Why isn't his aura healing it?"

"Aura?" she heard one of the men mumble like it was the first time he had heard it.

Weiss and Winter watch as the man inserts the nozzle into the chest wound and squeezes the trigger. They watch in fascination as white foam started to fill the wound, but to their amazement, the man was able to breath again.

"Amazing," Weiss breaths.

"BioFoam," the man replies simply. "One of the best medical inventions since antibiotics."

"How..." Winter murmur.

The leading cause of death was often caused from a person bleeding to death, for years Atlas alone has been trying to develop a quick way to stop blood loss from a wound. What she had just witnessed was something straight out of a science fiction novel. Not only had this "BioFoam" accomplished just that, but it also restored the use to the man's lung, a wound that would require immediate surgery if someone from Atas had that.

"Self-sealing foam," he replies, "But it will only hold for a few hours, should be enough time to get him proper medical attention." He turns back to the man and says "Alright, I'm going to give you some meds."

* * *

They all turned and watched as their leader solemnly limped up to them.

"How bad?" one of them men asks.

"It's the femoral artery," he sighs.

"Oh shit," the previous man curses, "I just ran out of BioFoam."

"It wouldn't have mattered."

Everyone's eyes widened.

The man continues on, "I can't see it, which means it's retracted into the pelvis. That means I have to find it and clamp it."

The soldiers paled as they looked over to the table. The man was still squirming in pain as another was trying his best to apply pressure to the wound. The three eldest Schnee's frown, this was something they were all too familiar with. Aura was an amazing thing, but it can only do so much. It was often what happened after a huntsman or huntress's aura was depleted when these types of wounds would occur. It was the reason why medics and doctors were such a sought after profession, without them, Atlas alone would be losing hundreds of more people than they are.

"It's the only way to stop the bleeding. So…." the leader voice shakes slightly, "I'm going to need you guys to assist. Okay?"

The men nod eagerly, "Yeah," they reply.

"Yep."

"Of course."

"Honey, come with me," Willow instructed to Weiss

"But why?"

"Just trust me okay? You shouldn't see this."

Weiss glances over at the table as soldiers take positions around the man.

"Robert listen, I gotta do something and it's gonna hurt, okay?" he asks. I gotta cause you more pain...but I have to do it to help you. Alright?"

"Lollipop," 'Robert' requested weekly.

"I can't, I'm sorry," the leader shook his head. Winter figured it was a type of painkiller, "Your blood pressure is way too low." He then looks up and instructs "Senaviev why don't you take his hands there." The large bulky man nods and grabs the man's hands tightly. He then turns to the shorter man, hands him a pair of clamps and instructs "Kowalski, you're gonna hold the wound open and keep pressure on the top of the leg." He turns to the last man who towered over the rest and says "Malarkey, you're gonna take the feet and flashlight." The group readies themselves and the leader continues "Okay on my count alright…."

"What are they doing?" Weiss cries out in fear as she watches the man nervously whimper.

"Winter help me!" Schöne cries.

"1…."

Winter pushes at Weiss as the two try and remove her from the room, but Weiss's eyes were glued to the table.

"2…."

"Sweetie we need your help!" Willow called to her husband.

"3…."

Right as Jacques wrapped his arms around Weiss's waste, he immediately recoiled back. The entire family did in fact as their ears were assault by a blood curdling scream. Weiss clamped her hands onto her ears, with tears in her eyes, she watched in horror and grief as the soldiers struggled to save their friend. No words to truly describe the sound that came from the wounded man, but it was the most horrible and agonizing sound she had ever heard. All eyes were glued to the table now as the man suddenly passed out from shock.

"Wait I feel it!" the leader cries. "I got it!"

The team fought to contain the bleeding.

"Sir it's tearing," Kowalski cried.

"Just hold it!" he cries back, "I almost got it."

"Sir, i-it's going back in!"

"Hold it! HOLD IT!"

The artery slipped back in.

"Alright, get out and hold the wound!"

"Okay!"

The leader practically shoved his hand back into the wound as he fought to try and find the severed artery again. After a few moments of frantic searching, the leader relented. The team looked at their leader and he looked back with defeated eyes and shook his head. At that moment, the team knew, there was nothing that could be done, the artery had retracted too far and now it was lost. The leader sighs as he backs up and sets the time on his watch. Robert slowly opens his eyes as he regains consciousness.

"Did you fix it?" he asks.

They all shared a glance before Senaviev smiles warmly, he pats him on the dead and says "Da, we got it."

* * *

At this point, Weiss was completely in tears as she was basically watching a man dying on the table and there was nothing any of them could do, unless….

"Has his aura been unlocked yet?" Weiss croaks.

"I'm sorry?" asks the tall one, Malarkey.

"Has his aura been unlocked?" Weiss asks again.

"Aura?" Malarkey scrunches up his eyebrows, "What is aura?"

"How could you no know what aura is?" Weiss asked in disbelief.

The group share a weary glance before one of them, Kowalski replies "It's a long story."

"One I hope you'll explain soon," Jacques narrows his eyes.

"As soon as your general gets here," Anderson quickly responds "It'll be quicker if we don't have to repeat ourselves."

"Understood," he nodded.

"So, what is aura?" Senaviev asks Weiss.

"Aura is the physical manifestation of the soul," Weiss explains, "It can be used for a wide arrange of abilities and it differs per person, but the basic use of it is as a sort of force-field to protect the user from damage. Aura is also capable of healing injuries the user may sustain."

"And you're saying this could save his life?" Anderson asks while in deep thought.

"Sir," Kowalski balked, "You're not actually considering this are you."

Malarkey nodded in agreement.

"This might be your comrade's only chance," Senaviev growls.

"You too?" he cries in disbelief, "This sounds like something a hippie came up with after a session with his pot-smoking-drum-circle and you know it!"

"Name our other options," he retorts.

"You're okay this?" Kowalski cries is disbelief, "The Sgt. is going to die and you want to leave his fate at the hands of some kid! Are you fucking serious?"

"Kowalski's stand down, that is an order!" the leader barks making Weiss jump.

He turns back Weiss and asks again, "Will it work?"

"I-t can't guarantee it…." Weiss stutters, "But it's his best chance."

"Do it," a voice weakly croaks.

Streicher at this point was on the brink of losing consciousness, but he was still aware enough to decide his own fate.

"Do it," he gasps.

The officer nods and the group takes a step back allowing room for Weiss to walk up to the wounded man.

"Just try to relax okay?" she whispers.

Streicher obeys and Weiss begins the ritual.

" _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."_

As she murmured the sacred words, Weiss began to glow a pale blue. She backed away, feeling the fatigue from the activation. The glow began to spread onto Streicher's body where it turned into a magnificent emerald green. The group watched in amazement as the wound began to heal and the blood faded away.

"That's….that's not possible," Kowalski gasps.

"Neveroyatno," Senaviev quietly mutters. [Unbelievable.]

Then something happened that even the Schnees were surprised by. First, Streicher de-aged, rapidly, he grew from a man in his mid forties into a kid that looked like he was now no older than fourteen. Then scales of different shades of brown and green starts to form along the sides of Streicher's neck. Weiss then noticed that the scales where on his shoulders and sides as well, and his upper thighs. She looked at his face as he open his mouth and she spotted a forked shaped tongue along with two upper fangs like those of a snake. Finally, she watched in fascination, and a little fear as the man's brown eyes turned into gold and his pupils narrowed into reptilian slits.

"He turned into a fanus?!" Willow gasped in surprise.

"What's a fanus?" Malarkey asks.

"You really aren't from around here are you," Jacques sighs, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"Fanus are people with animal traits, simply put," Schöne.

"Is that suppose to happen?" Senaviev asks raising an eyebrow.

Weiss and the others were too shocked to even speak.

"No, it's not, nothing like this has ever happened before as far as I know," Jacques replies seriously.

"You good?" the leader asks Weiss who was still feeling fatigued.

"She nods, "Just a little drained from that." She then takes a deep breath and says "Alright you next My…."

"No," he shakes his head.

Weiss was confused for a moment, he didn't want her to heal him?

"He needs it more," the leader points to the other injured person who had by now passed out from the painkillers.

Weiss repeated the same process and the same thing happened, this time instead, the man's ears disappeared and a pair of gray wolf ears grew onto his head. The man also rapidly de-aged, this time becoming her age. Winter and Willow took over the activation process since as Weiss to prevent Weiss from passing out from fatigue. As they did the same process on the Anderson, he too de-aged, but he didn't turn into a fanus. He then felt very funny, his head felt like it was floating and his vision started to fade to black.

"Sir you alright?" Malarkey asks.

"I think I'm blacking out," he chuckled, "Guess all the fatigue from today is starting to catch up," and like that he was out.

* * *

 **Author's Note: If anyone is wondering, I always draw from other sources for inspiration, so if it feels familiar, or you feel as if you've seen it before, trust me, you have. I had planned to have this chapter go on for longer, but I think I'll leave you on this cliff hanger instead. Thank you all for reading, I hope you liked it, if you want to see more, please follow. If you really liked it, please favorite it. If you have any questions, concerns, complaints, or if you just want to be nice, please leave a review, speak or forever hold your peace. As always, thank you for your time and remember….Big Brother is watching….Always.**


	4. The Unknown

**Author's Note: Apparently all my classes decided to have tests and essays assigned back to back, what a hectic past couple of weeks. Sorry for the delays. Also, did change one of the character's rank, just thought one pay grade higher fit a little better. There is some other things I want to talk about though, this is where I may lose some of you based on some of my opinions, trigger warning, some of you may disagree with my choices, writing is subjective and I've always thought that. Despite the fact that this story is about soldiers getting displaced in another dimension, I will still try to apply my sense of logic over my suspension of disbelief as much as possible. Most of the technology you see in the hands of the Earth soldiers fall under these categorizes: A: already in service, B: limited use by special forces, C: slated to be put into service in the near future, or D: being tested successfully as of right now. Seeing as how this story takes place in the year 2025, I'll leave it up for you imagination as to what the military will have. I'll talk more about some of this in detail at the end.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

The Unknown

Streicher's tired eyes slowly wedged open and a blinding light filled his vision. When he became fully aware, he realized that he had no idea where he actually was. It resembled just simply a waiting from for something, and everything was colored white. Suddenly at the end of the hall, an even brighter flash appeared and a figure appeared. From what Streicher could make out, it was a tall, slender, elvish woman, dressed in white robes that dropped off around her and left her shoulders, arms and midriff exposed. To say the least, she was gorgeous and it was at this moment, Streicher new he was at the very least dreaming.

"He will now see you," she whispered in a soft ethereal voice.

The stranger, gorgeous, but never the less strange woman than points to the other end of the hall which sat a simple office door with the window shade pulled down. Streicher was never really one to question things, sure, he would maybe gripe a little about things, but he would still follow his directions and work with what he had. His job demanded it, he wasn't always going to get a perfect scenario, or proper directions with working equipment. Streicher learned this from a young age, and his time in the army would only enforce this. His only shot of getting a coherent answer lay right behind that door. Not like the strange lady would be much help if her cryptic message was anything to go by. With on last glance back, soldier took a deep breath and opened the door. What he saw….was completely not what he was expecting, then again, nothing in life ever really is is it?

In the middle of a room was a desk which sat a lanky, neatly kept man with wavy ginger hair, the man looks up from his paperwork and instantly notices Streicher.

"Oh good, you're here," the man smiles politely with a Queens accent. "Take a seat," and he points to a chair in front of him.

Streicher was a bit weary of who the man was, but he figured that this could be his only chance, so he complied.

"Alright, welcome to my office!" he greets warmly, "Now I'm sure you have lots of questions."

"You're Death aren't you?"

"Straight to the point I see," the man laughs. "I'm whatever you need me to be, but sure, let's go with that."

"You're not what I had expected," Streicher murmurs blandly.

"What do you mean?" he asks curiously from his computer.

"I mean," Streicher raised his eyebrow, "Why do you look like my lawyer?"

Death upon heading that rolls his eyes, lets out a tired groan, and buried his face into his hands.

"I can't tell you how many times I get asked this," he quietly mutters before looking back to Streicher and asking "What did you expect, a black cloak and a scythe? The pointless theatrics are Fate's thing, I stopped being pointlessly cryptic and dramatic after the Black Death. Right let me go find your file."

He turns to the filing cabinet which climbed up seemingly endlessly behind him and opens it. The draw shoots open….with an also seemingly endless length.

He then chuckles to himself "You know, seeing as how we're on another plane of existence….your mind, limbo….whatever, they're all the same thing when you really think about it, but I digress. You would think that we would have something more sophisticated than a filing cabinet, but you'd be surprised."

Streicher glances at the computer screen and sees the logo "Macrohard" on the monitor and deadpans.

"So, Sergeant First Class Robert Streicher," he drawls, "Do you know why you're here?"

"I am either about to die or am already dead," he replies blankly.

Death had am impressed look and Lets out a laugh.

"Not quite, but you're close," he corrects, "You're right now having what we call a "near death experience," and this is how your mind has come to rationalize it."

"So is this real or all in my head?" Streicher asks now a little confused.

"Like I said earlier," he responds without looking up from the cabinet, "This is all up to you. Though to answer your question, yeah, of course this is in your head. Doesn't mean it isn't real."

"So, how did you get into the killing business?" he asks casually.

"That's quite the personal question," Streicher's eyes narrow.

"Don't worry, client confidentiality, I won't tell a soul," he replies reassuringly.

"How much time do we have?" Streicher asks.

"An eternity," he replies casually, "Well technically we do, but I do have other "clients" I need to see and a lot of paperwork to get through. Can't expect Fate to ever lend a helping hand," he silently grumbles. He then looks off to the other room where he sees a similar dressed woman who had this weird combination of contemplation and overworked, talking to what looked like Basuda. "At least Time is willing to help me out, but she's more of an accounting type person if you ask me." He then glances back at and sheepishly smiles "I'm sorry you were saying."

"I won't take too long ," Streicher replies. "By the way your puns need work unless you are planning on stopping them for the time being."

"When hell freezes over," he snorts. "Here it is."

He pulls out a file and with a snap of his fingers, the drawer cartoonishly retracts back into the cabinet.

"There's really not much to it," Streicher continues, "I was fresh out of highschool, no idea what I wanted to do with my life. Didn't feel like going to college without any real goal…."

"So you joined the army for a chance to discover yourself," Death finishes.

"You've probably heard this about a trillion times or more so I won't bore you with the details."

"Or more," Death responds leaning into his hand, "But I've yet to get bored with it. The reasons people choose such a life has always fascinated me."

Streicher turns back and meets Death's gaze.

"So what happens now?" Streicher asks.

Death places the file down in front of him and says "Well seeing as how you almost died, I'm here to make you an offer." Death notices the smirk on Streicher's face and groans "Not that kind of offer."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I already own your soul, I'm not going to make you play the fiddle for it," Death explained, "I'm just saying you get to decide where you go."

"What are my options?" asks Streicher.

"Well, as you probably have guessed, going back home as you are is not an option seeing as how all six of you are officially dead in your home universe. That leaves three."

He pulls out three pieces of paper and lays them out in front of Streicher. Streicher leans in to read the papers.

"You can either: you can reincarnate yourself back to your home dimension with no recollection of your past life, you can move on to the after life, the dimension is nowhere near as divided as your religions portray it, it's really just a place where souls go when they move on, it's more like how it was in _Beetlejuice_ or _Danny Phantom_ ….or you can remain in your new dimension exactly as you are right now with no changes….er minus the snake bit."

"That's it?" Streicher asks, expecting a catch.

"Yep, take your time," he replies handing him a pen, "When you've made your decision sign your name."

"Who's currently with me?" he asks, "In this new dimension I mean."

"Currently, all of you," Death replies, "The guys you had directly before the explosion are the ones who are with you in this world."

Quickly making his decision, he chose to stay in his current dimension.

"Yeah, I would have felt bad if you abandoned your friends to," Death muttered before flowing it away. "Pleasure doing business with you SGT Streicher, head on through the door you came when you're ready."

"Anything I should know about this world?" Streicher asks.

"The people's mansion you're in will fill you in." "Good luck," he says and holds out his hand.

Streicher nods and then walks for the door.

"By the way," Streicher looks back, "Fate was adamant about this case, so you might hear from me again. Just thought I'd let you know."

Without another word, Streicher walks through the door and is met with blinding light once again.

* * *

"Professor what have you found?" asked Ironwood.

Professor Alan Ocel, one of the leading scientists behind the many weapons in Atlas's modern arsenal, was tasked with examining the equipment of the mysterious soldiers.

"Well, it's fascinating to say the least General," Ocel answered.

Jacques and Ironwood took a step closer as Ocel pulled a school as well as a large file containing the data his team managed to collect.

"There's no way these men are just ordinary soldiers," he began.

The two share a glance before asking "What do you mean?"

"Well, first, it appears that two of them have completely different uniform pattern hinting at a possible second group, perhaps allies, but that's not the point, the point is the design pattern on them, these four are clearly designed to be fought in a desert environment while these two look like they're designed for woodlands."

"How effective are they?" asks Jaques.

"Enough that at a distance we won't be able to notice them," Ocel replies. "From what we managed to examine, the material is some kind of woven, tear resistant fiber that's been treated to repel insects as well as potentially biological pathogens."

"Right, similar to our own newer uniforms," Ironwood nods.

"Yes, and it's also highly flame resistant, which is expectant of any vehicle mounted infantry, to the point that by the time the material actually burns, the tissue underneath would have been already destroyed from the heat."

"What about heat casualties?" asks Jaques.

"The uniforms are loose to allow air to flow and the cotton shirts are designed to soak up sweat to cool the body down," he replies.

"Clever," murmur Ironwood.

"What about their weapons?" asks Ironwood as they eye what looked like four black rifles lined up on the table. 'No carbines,' thought the General "The barrels were too short to be rifles."

"From the outside, the equipment is not too unlike ours," he explains, "They seem like normal infantry and they seem to be equipped as such, but that's where the similarities end. All the technology here is nothing unfamiliar to our nation's, what amazes me is how much is stuck onto one rifle. It's as if the weapons have been designed from the ground up if modularity in mind!"

Ironwood held up the first carbine, it was fairly lightweight and had a fairly short barrel at thirty-six cm, the rifle seemed familiar yet different to anything he had ever seen. Along the barrel heel these familiar mounting rails. What was strange was that the rail surrounded the barrel instead of just the top like the weapons used in the Atlas military. On the top rail was mounted some kind of marksman scope and the bottom held a fore-grip which the General had seen on sub-machine guns, both tied on with simple screw on bolts.

"They're all virtually the same platform save for a couple of minor changes! Take this one for example," Ocel holds up the carbine with the longest barrel, clearly the marksman's weapon, "The only difference this rifle has to the others is that the barrel and bolt are designed to chamber a larger round!"

"Jaques, have you ever seen like this before?" asks Ironwood.

"Yes, but nothing on this scale," Jacques shook his head, he then holds up another carbine, "I mean, James looks at this! This one even has an under-barrel grenade launcher! It's ingenious!"

"What rounds do they chamber?" asks Ironwood.

"5.56x45mm."

"Wait what?" Jacques almost blurted out in surprise "But that's a varmint round! I've only ever used it for squirrel hunting."

This honestly surprised the two men, the 5.56 round was widely considered an underpowered barely suitable for frontline combat, yet here are weapons that said otherwise.

"Well firstly, these don't run on dust," he explained, "Instead, they run on some kind of highly refined high nitrogen based compound that contains an incredible amount of energy."

"How so?"

"We test burned a petri dish of it when we were comparing it to normal dust propellants."

He pulls out a scroll and shows them a recording.

"One contained dust, the other this powder."

The figure places a torch into the first petri dish and it explodes in a giant cloudy fiery mess.

"The dust reacted as expected, but watch closely when we burn the powder."

Instead of a smokey or flashy explosion, what they were instead greeted with was a brilliant slow burn.

Upon viewing the recording, the two came to a shocking realization, "There's no smoke," one of them murmured.

"That's right, and because of all that contained energy, these rounds are much more powerful, when we test fired one of them, out of the 36 cm barrel, we managed to clock the round at over 890 m/s."

"That's, that's not possible," Jacques breathed. "That's-"

"At least twice the muzzle velocity of the equivalent dust round," Ironwood finishes.

"That's not all general, the bullets themselves are pretty standard on the outside," he pulls out another recording, this time with a couple of 5.56 rounds with green painted on their tips, "They're a copper shell surrounding a lead core, but look closely…."

The trio watched as a pair of tweezers pulled out a small cone at the top of the bullet.

"That right there…." observed Ocel, "Is a steal tip which we hypothesized, operates as a type of penetrator." He then turns off the recording and faces the duo, "As you know, when a normal round impacts a hard service, the round either fragments or out mushrooms, but when these rounds hit…."

"The steel penetrator will continue on unimpeded," Ironwood finished.

"Armor-piercing rounds," Jacques gasped.

"What kind of penetration are we looking at professor?"

"With the standard Atlas soldier loadout and aura, four to five three-round bursts at best," he sighs. "They'll easily defeat most body armors out there and aura won't last very long, and with how much faster they are traveling, you won't have much luck deflecting or blocking them like dust rounds."

"Did you do a gel test?" Ironwood asks, stone faced as ever.

Ocel solemnly nodded and pulls up another video. The screen showed a mold of ballistic gel and a pole of plaster and a plate of Atlas body armor in front of it to simulate an Atlas soldier's body. The two got to watch the recording at 27,000 frames per second leaving nothing to the imagination. The small round pass through the armored steel plate with the ease of a hot knife through butter. They watched in horror as the plaster pole bent from the stress and then disintegrate as the round passed through it, fragmented and then exited out the other side. The round in its wake, created a void of space that flexed to almost twice the gel mold's actual size and in that moment, it was as if the mold was dancing. Ironwood was stone faced as he watched the recording.

When it was over, Jaques paled and said "That's sick, there's not even any bone _left_."

"If the soldier was hit in the arm, he would have to have it amputated," Ocel says grimly, "If it was his torso, you're looking at three to ten different surgeries to repair the damage. Even if the bullet fragments don't hit anything vital, the cavitation alone is enough to rip apart any blood vessels near it."

"Oh Oum." **AU: Can someone come up with something better to use than this, this kind of makes me feel dumb for some reason. Unless you guys are okay with it and I'm just feeling weird for no reason.**

"I don't even want to imagine what their heavier weapons will do," he finishes.

"What about their equipment?" Ironwood asks.

"Same thing," he replies shifting to the second table, "The first thing you'll notice are these…."

He points to a skeletal robotic frame.

"This is an exoskeleton, which General if you remember past ventures into this field."

He nods, "That's right, we deemed it an unnecessary expense since the aura would recover the body from any stress the body attained over time."

"But these men don't have aura, or at least they didn't," Jacques added.

"Thus these men to carry more weight and for longer without stress on their spine and legs," Ironwood realizes.

"One of the men had a manual on them that explained out to maintain this system," he adds holding up a small booklet, "The manual states that this suit is rated for falls of up to 45 meters meaning they could jump out of hovering bullheads no problem. Infact, everything they're wearing is designed to leave the least amount of stress on the body."

He holds up a belt, a vest, and some pouches to hammer in their point.

"What about protection?" asks Jaques.

Odell took a huge breath before he pulls out another bulky looking vest and placed it on the table.

"From what we can tell, it's made of some kind of high-molecular polymer fiber soaked into some kind of resin, but that's not all," he then pulls back the velcro straps and pulls out some kind of plate from inside the vest.

"Professor what is that?" ask Ironwood l, not really trusting his eyes at the moment, "Is that what I think it is?"

"That's a ceramic plate," he nodded.

"And they're using that for armor?!" Jacques cries, "Polymers and ceramics?! They're either insane or insanely rich….probably both!"

He was right, polymers and ceramics were amazing materials, they were lightweight and could do everything that metal could do and more, the downside was that they were incredibly expensive to manufacture. So to see that these soldiers were willingly using it for protection was a rather hard pill for them to swallow.

"The material on the vest is five times stronger than steel on its own easily stopping pistol rounds, we think the resin is meant to stop stabs but it looks only strong enough to stop combat knives,". he continues, "I'm going to guess that with weapons like these, they weren't too worried about things like spears and swords."

He then picks up set of pates which included a front, a back, side, shoulder pauldrons, thigh plates, and a groin plate.

"This plate made out of Boron Carbide, it a kind of material that was invented recently and is equal parts boron and equal parts carbon," he exclaims. "You're looking at one of the hardest man-made materials, if not the hardest ever made!"

"How hard are we talking, as compared to what?" asks Jaques.

He takes another deep breath, "We measure hardness on a 1-10 scale known as the mohs hardness scale. One being the weakest while ten as the strongest. You can probably guess what's at the top."

"Diamonds," Ironwood answers bluntly.

Over nods and continues on "And the ninth spot begins corundum as a very far second. This material was rated at a 9.5!"

"Enough to tank pretty much most our small arms," Jaques murmured.

"How well would these soldiers fair against our huntsman and huntresses?" Ironwood asks.

"Well," he spends a moment thinking of his answer, "With the equipment they have, the team together may actually be able take them on, especially if the huntsman and huntresses only have melee weapons."

"You're right professor," Ironwood comments, "These aren't just normal soldiers, they're seasoned veterans."

"That's right General, we can only speculate what their culture is like, but based on only how what their equipment was, it's without a doubt a culture founded on warfare. These men are riflemen, their entire lives are founded around their rifles, they know the ins and outs and their strengths and weaknesses as well as they know know themselves and each other. This is coordination on par with veteran huntsman teams, and with weapons like these, as long as can they easily engage and destroy targets before we even have an idea of where they came from. As long as they have the range advantage and ammunition, they will keep laying waste to our forces while we try to close in."

"What options do our forces have?" Jacques asks.

"Their best chance is to close that distance as quickly as possible, stay out of the open, use the terrain to your advantage," Ironwood replies, "As long as our forces are out in the open, we will be forced to play by their rules and they'll continue to pick us off as we moved closer. If we can get in close, then our forces have a chance, but something tells me they would have precautions for that as well. Like this…."

He then proceeds to pull out a rectangular shaped plastic box on two stands as well as a switch detonator and a spool of wire.

"That's a land mine," Ironwood answers without thinking.

Ocel nods, "We found inside the plastic case, a collection of steel ball bearings. It's a directional mine and we calculate, that once detonated, the device has enough potential energy to propel the ball bearings out wards to about 100 m at a 60 degree firing arc."

"How hard would it be to spot?" asks Jaques.

"Depends, depending on the environment, it'll range from difficult in the snow and dessert, too downright impossible the forest and fields."

"Thank you professor," Ironwood replies politely.

"Where did you find these guys anyway?" Ocel inquired curiously.

"They showed up on our front yard heavily battered, three of them injured, two of the injured in critical condition," replies Jaques.

"So you got to interact with them personally?" asks Ocel, eyes widening, "What were they like."

"They were polite and cooperative, even in their state, they were respectful to my family and I, well…." he then remembered the outburst of one of the younger men when his daughter offered to unlock their aura and then mutters "For the most part anyway. They passed out either from exhaustion, getting their aura unlocked, or a combination of both and are right now resting in some of the guest rooms."

"Which brings us to right now," finished Ironwood, "We wanted a rough picture of we were dealing with before we sat down to talk with them once they had awoken."

"You didn't have a violent first contact, so at least they shouldn't act hostile when they awaken, I mean they might be cautious, I would if I woke up in a place I barely remember or recognize," he replies thoughtfully.

Just then, the door burst open and in walked Winter.

"Honey?" Jacques looks up in surprise.

"Father, Sir," he greets both politely, "They've awakened."

"What are they doing right now?" asos Ironwood.

"Mother and Weiss are giving them a brief history of our world," she replies.

"How are they taking it?" Jacques asks, slightly concerned.

"Three of them are taking rather well, one is indifferent while the other two are upset," she replies empathetically, "I'd advise getting them all psychological evaluations and perhaps some grief counselors."

Ironwood replies solemnly, "Noted." He then politely nods to Ocel saying "Professor."

"General, Mr. Schnee, if I could speak to them in the future, there are some things I would like to ask," he requested.

"We'll be sure to drop your name," Ironwood replies.

"Thank you General."

The two then leave with Winter in tow, one way or another, the two men understood in some way what the soldiers were going through, but they would have to come to that later.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, to cover a couple of things first, the exoskeletons are real and are slated to be put in service by 2021 according to the US Army, the vest they use are Type IV ballistic plates that are rated to stop seven armor piercing 30-06 rounds, and the effects 5.56 mm were taken from an actual medical report as well as a gel test video shot from a 16 inch barrel. The rifles on the table were two M4A2s, one M27 IAR, and one KAC SR-25. The mine was a claymore in case you didn't get the hint, and the plate carriers were made from Ultra-high-molecular-weight polyethylene, which is marginally better than Kevlar. Also, the sketch at the beginning I'm leaving open for interpretation, I'm neither going to confirm or deny whether or not it was real, just that was what that character saw, so I'll leave it up to you to debate what it was and why.**

 **My personal opinion of dust goes like this: the handgun rounds are similar, but as soon as the rounds climb up the numbers start to stack exponentially. The rifle round 5.56 for example, in real life, is three times the speed of a 9mm. That would explain how people in RWBY were able to block bullets if they were much slower. The reflex requirements in real life are inhuman at best to impossible at worst. Someone actually did the math for the scene from** _ **Deadpool 2**_ **where Deadpool sliced the handgun bullets with his swords and they calculated the reaction speed to I believe was like 1/16 of a second, also he still got hit by the bullets so it didn't really work. From what I've seen, even without aura, the guns in RWBY seem a bit underpowered. Though it can be excused since dust can be enhanced by aura if my memory serves me correctly. I personally think the world of RWBY would be shocked at the amount of internal damage that is caused by real world ballistics. What I'm trying to go for is that, gunpowder isn't as versatile or cheap as dust, and they can't be enhanced, but their shocking power and muzzle velocity makeup for their shortcomings. The rounds would also be a proportionally heavier with heavier recoil to boot, it won't mean much at the lower rounds, but I'm pretty sure if physics is anything to go by, the numbers would multiply exponentially as you grow higher in round size. I'll have the crew "invent" and "patton" new rounds that shouldn't exist in RWBY since those rounds were invented here in our world. That includes 45 ACP, FN 5.7, 30-06, 50 AE, 50 BMG, .300 Win. Mag., Armor piercing, Armor piercing/high explosive incendiary, etc. Obviously these rounds would be proportionately more expensive than dust, especially those "special" rounds. I'm thinking of adding .44 and .357 magnum since those were invented by an American company, but I don't know. Just assume that if the round is listed by its metric measurements, and I don't say otherwise, it's probably from Remnant.**

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I hope kept you through what I feel may be a little controversial. I was just trying to apply physics to explain a world which I will admit to not knowing a whole lot about. I hope you all keep reading and I hope to see you next time. Remember, Big Brother is watching….always.**


	5. The Dominoes Placed

**Author's Note: I wanna start this off by giving a shout out to my beta reader, Just Random Guy. He's not my only beta reader, but he's been a tremendous help in structuring this story. I probably wouldn't have gotten it out in the condition it was in without his help. Now on with the story.**

 **For this opening bit, the wiki only says that Atlas is a cold mountainous region where life has a hard time living. I can only assume so much and at some point I'll have to take some creative differences from the source material. On the map, the continent appears to lie on the same parallels as Alaska, Canada, and Siberia in our world, also places that have very harsh winters and are filled with miles of unclaimed wilderness. For this story, I'm going to portray it as such: a continent filled to the brim with natural resources but the geographic location and climatic conditions make retrieving the resources or just living there difficult, the northern regions of the continent are the you arctic ice fields that you'd expect while the lower regions are mountainous valleys of arctic tundra and thick forests with trees thousands of years old. When the winter comes, everything freezes over and only wildlife that live here are perfectly adapted to do so. I did spot a frozen forest in one of the episodes, but that's my interpretation of the place, so I hope this isn't too much of a jump for you guys.**

 **I've been playing a lot of** _ **Far**_ _**Cry**_ _**5**_ **so a bit of that setting got transplanted into this chapter, along with the hunting scene from the movie** _ **No Country For Old Men**_ … **.good movie, anyway let's get going. I promise I won't always have such large author's note sections, they should shorten out dramatically once m story enters the official storyline since I'm not really doing any world building or anything.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

The Dominoes Placed

As Winter came to an end and Spring began in Atlas, across the desolate, frozen, tundra, signs of life began to sprout. Plant life began to grow attracting the hiding wildlife. Out from the protective cover of the woods comes a lone black tailed deer who came out in to graze on the local flora. He walks forward and checks for danger, before long the rest of the herd joins the lone buck and they begin grazing. Little did they know, they were being watched and silently stalked.

* * *

A pair of golden snake eyes peered the herd through. On the cliff overlooking the meadow, sat both Basuda behind a rifle and Streicher behind a spotting scope. The pair had been tracking this particular herd for the past two hours since they started at four in the morning. It was dark, not that it really mattered, at this time of year, the sun didn't rise until nine in Atlas. The dark did little to hinder the sight of the pair. Streicher looks away from the scope and then checks his watch.

"Right on time," Streicher murmurs.

"I've always wondered if they have it better than us," Basuda murmurs.

Streicher glances over as Basuda continues.

"What do you mean?"

"Them," Basuda gestured to the herd, "It just feels as if they have it easier than us."

Streicher shakes his head, "Basuda, I don't think most people gamble with life and death every day."

"Oh wait," Basuda thought for a moment before, "Yeah, you're right, I meant their lives seem much more simpler."

"Oh," Streicher's eyebrows arch upwards, "Well in that case yeah, but the basic goal outlines are pretty much the same: live to adulthood, find a mate, reproduce….the cycle repeats. I do suppose we are lucky in our area of the animal kingdom, seeing as how we get to watch our offspring grow rather than dumping them out into the cold without any real guide on what the world is like. All the extra in between is just padding."

"It just seems so simple," Basuda comments, "Every day they wake up and repeat the same process over and over again, risking our own well being even just hoping for the same results, it's what we do too. It's quite the gamble just for a feeling of security."

"Well there is one difference between us and them," Streicher replies, "The healthy human mind generally doesn't wake up thinking it's going to be its last day on the planet. I believe knowing you're close to death is a luxury, not a curse."

"Do you believe what Time and Death said to us?" Basuda asks as he folds down his NODs **(Night Ocular Device)** down over his eyes, "About Fate and our paths?"

Streicher shrugs "Well I don't know what Time said to you, but I do know one thing, we are all fated to die, that is what's certain, the only thing that varies is time and chance, which is what Death offered me and by default, the rest of us. You pick one yet?"

"Da," he replies, "That one in the middle, I'm marking him now."

Streicher watched through the scope Basuda's laser circled around a deer who was oblivious to what was about to happen.

Now the two didn't particularly ask to be turned into faunus upon arriving to their new home, but they certainly weren't complaining, gaining certain animal appendages were a decent trade for some of the abilities they were both granted. Though they could both now see in the dark in a way, for a wolf faunus like Basuda, and most animals for that matter, they still can't see infrared light which is why Basuda still wore his NODs when the mission required it. Streicher on the other hand, was a snake faunus, an anaconda to be exact, and thus wasn't privy to that limitation. Though it did come at the cost of Streicher being required to wear glasses or contacts in order to see straight since snakes weren't known for their excellent eyesight, but he was content with what he had.

"Range to target: 2100 yards….Elevation: 500 ft….Wind speed: 1 mph," he listed off.

"Now can you give it to me in metric?" Basuda jokes, he chuckles at the look Streicher shoots him before quickly adding, "Don't worry I'm not that evil."

Streicher rolls his eyes and then asks "Do you have the target?"

"Affirmative," he replies coldly.

"Fire when ready."

"Robert?" Basuda asks. "Where are you from if you don't mind me asking?"

"Montana," he replies casually as he dusts off his white cowboy hat and places it on his head.

"But you are of German descent, are you not?"

"Great-Grandfather immigrated over after the Second World War," he explains. "My Grandfather, his son, he used to tell me, that when he first arrived at Great Falls, saw the waterfalls, he instantly fell in love with the place and vowed to never leave."

"And I assume you were raised with this as your pass-time?" he inquired.

"Every weekend," he replies, "Can't remember a time where I didn't see a rifle."

"Now you hold still," Basuda whispers

As the shot rang out across the valley, the unlucky dear fell down dead as the rest of the herd ran off at full gallop.

"And there is dinner," Streicher whistles. "Basuda where are you from?" he then asks as he picks up the spent brass casing and places it into his pocket.

"Born and raised in Kovrov, Russia," he replies, "I was the oldest of three brothers with my parents being factory workers."

"How'd you get into hunting then?" Streicher asks curiously.

"When I enlisted in the military actually," he replies.

"Oh?"

"Da, my first station was at Naryan Mar, a small river and port town by the Barents Sea. The place was freezing, as expected when that close to the Arctic Circle, but I found that I didn't mind it."

"Hey, why don't you watch the body while I grab the truck?" Streicher offers.

"Sounds good," Basuda replies, "You think they'll eat it?"

"Well, I know the parent will, their children on the other hand…." he pauses, "Well, it's worth a shot, gotta try something new once in a while."

"10 lien says Weiss refuses," he wagered.

"I'll take you up on that offer."

* * *

There Weiss sat, staring at the mystery meat sitting on the plate in front of her. It looked incredibly similar to beef, and yet it didn't. There was something wrong with it and Weiss just couldn't place her finger on it.

"Something wrong with your food honey?" her mother asks.

"What's wrong with it? What even is it?" her little brother, Whiteley asks in confusion.

"Whatever it is, it's not any beef I've ever seen," Weiss comments wearily.

Weiss glances wearily around as literally everyone save Winter, Whiteley, and herself were digging into the mysterious meat without another thought.

"It does look strangely familiar though," Winter mutters as she cautiously lifts a piece up on her fork and sniffs it, "I just can't place my finger on it."

'No don't….' Weiss thought in grief as she lost her sister to the mystery meat. She whimpered as Winter slowly raised the piece to her mouth and placed it in. Winter chewed slowly for a moment before her eyes widened in surprise. She quickly swallows the piece and looks down at the plate in shock.

"Smooth….firm….rich," Winter quietly, "I recognize that texture anywhere. This is venison!" She turns to her father and asks "Where did you get it?"

"Robert and Maxim shot it this morning," Jaques replies.

"I wondered why you were in the pick-up-truck this morning," Weiss mutters, she then widens her eyes, "Wait, what's venison?"

"It's deer meat," Streicher replied bluntly.

"What?!" Weiss cries in shock while Whiteley stars on in disgust.

"You guys are okay with this?!" Whitley asks incredulously.

"Of course," Jacques chuckles, "I used to go hunting myself when you were younger! I even took Winter along on occasion."

"I do miss those trips," Winter dreamt nostalgically.

"I know," Jacques softened his voice as he became more apologetic, "I've been meaning to plan a trip and even teach Weiss and Whitley…." he let's quit a sad sigh, "It's just the company and work….I just never got around to it."

"It's alright father," Winter nods understandingly, "I know how much the company requires of you."

Weiss was on the fence right now of whether to eat or not to eat the steak on her plate. Though she could just go to bed without dinner, not something she hasn't done before….it was just today was her muscle failure day. Not only was she exhausted from training, but she was hungry. Her parents had always taught her not to waste food either and she knew they would probably frown on her if she tried to get the servants to bring her something.

"How do I know you aren't trying to poison us?" Whiteley asks suspiciously while Weiss was having her internal debate.

"Venison is actually healthier than beef, believe it or not," Anderssen answers, "I believe a three-ounce serving of roasted venison provides 140 calories, less than 1 gram of fat and 26 grams of protein, which is 50 percent of the daily value for protein if you follow a 2,000-calorie diet." He turns to Streicher and Basuda and asks "That sound right?"

"Yeah."

"That is correct."

"Is it now?" Weiss asks, 'This just got more interesting,' she thought while eyeing the plate.

"Whereas, a 3-ounce serving of grilled beef tenderloin steak, which has the same amount of protein as the venison, provides 179 calories and 7.6 grams of fat, including 3 grams of saturated fat," Anderson listed off, "You have no idea how many times I've had to read that off to people."

Weiss stares blankly before "Well when you put it like that…."

Weiss then starts to eat the plate much to Whitley's shock and horror.

"Weiss! How could you?!" Whitley cries in despair as his sisters had abandoned him.

Streicher snorts and holds his hand conspicuously to Basuda of groans, rolls his eyes and hands him a 10-alien card.

"I'll be honest, I forgot about Whitley," Basuda whispers and Streicher nods in agreement.

* * *

Two Days After Arrival:

Ironwood is no stranger to the unusual, as the leader of his Kingdom's military, it was his job to identify and success all possible threats to the people. Six soldiers with uniforms and equipment of unknown origin suddenly appearing in the living room of the most important family in Atlas was definitely a call for concern. Now he sat an in small interrogation room with them.

"Gentlemen," General Ironwood began, "I'll be honest with you, all six of you are unknowns here. You all look like soldiers, so I hope you can understand why I as a military leader am so concerned when I get a call that six soldiers of unknown origin just magically appear in the home of one of the most influential families in the kingdom. My superiors want me to have you all arrested and then interrogated for a possible threat to our people, all your equipment stripped and reverse engineered."

Some of the men visibly stiffened while the others hardened their gaze.

"But since you've all been cooperative so far, I opted against their decision and I'm willing to let you explain your part."

"How much do they know of us," a man asks in an accent he didn't recognize.

"Nothing solid, just rumors and speculation at best," he replied honestly. "They honestly think you're just mercenaries with high quality huntsman equipment."

The men gave it their own thoughts before they turned to the two in the middle who Ironwood figures were the ones in charge of the group. The two exchange glances and then nod before the rest nodded in agreement.

"Firstly, I've already been briefed by Mr. Schnee, but I want to hear personally from all of you. Who are you?"

The men looked around at each other before two men step forward.

"You two are the leaders?" he asks.

The first man nods, "I'm 1st Lieutenant Anderson."

"And I'm Senior Lieutenant Basuda," the second man answer next.

"What do you men know so far about your situation?" asks Ironwood.

"Well sir," Anderson started, "We know that we're really far from home….from another dimension in fact….as crazy as that sounds."

"And we instead are transported from our timely deaths to a world plagued by these creatures you call Grim. Where the soul is a real corporeal thing and not just a concept….as well as a few extra details," Basuda gestures to his wolf ears.

"A world where everything we've known had been left behind, our lives literally changed, decades of experiences and memories are now literally just that," another soldier sighs sadly.

General nods sympathetically, "We, saw the battle log replaying the events that led up to your….displacement. It pretty much corroborates everything you've said."

"So what do you want from us?" Anderson asks sternly.

"I want to give you an offer," he starts, "An offer for asylum. In return, you give me your services."

"We're listening," Basuda replies.

"You and I are the same, we're both soldiers loyal to our flag, except you no longer have yours, I am simply offering you one. As I already said, the council wants you to be arrested and all your equipment looted. I advised against it since you're really the only ones that truly know how to operate said equipment to their maximum capacity," he explains. "I said you'd be more of an asset to us if you were to show us how it worked."

"Is that our only two options, join you or become prisoners," Basuda asks.

"Officially yes," the general replies, "But between you and me, I do recognize tired, aged eyes anywhere, even in your younger bodies. I could instead give you guys a chance in the civilian life, time to enjoy your new bodies."

While the group were in deep thought, one of them stepped forward, and with a deep voice he narrows his eyes and says "A great leader from our world once said that "Men are moved my two levers: fear and self interest."" He then continues "We have heard your council's personal desires, now what is their actual fear?"

"There's a war coming," he said ominously, "As you know, our world of Remnant ios plagued by creatures of the dark known as Grimm."

They all nodded.

"Last month, a group of my specialists raided a church belonging to a cult called the Children of the White Queen. In it they found the cult had held some kind of bazaar ritual all for the process of worshiping said creatures. What we managed to pull from the interrogations were that all Grimm were under the service of their goddess which they called the White Queen. They claimed that througtheir blood ritual, they have now pledged loyalty to the Queen. Their answers vary, but they all fall around them being rewarded by either transforming into Grim or being granted salvation in the Queen's new kingdom, we can't confirm any of this since this is all just speculation."

"And you think she's real," the man asks.

"It's always been a theory that maybe Grimm aren't just mindless beasts, and that they are, in fact, at the command of an outside force," he replies, "They don't behave like animals. They don't attack each other even if they're encroaching on each other's territory, and they exclusively target humans and faunus and they are attracted to negative emotions." He then scowls and continues "It doesn't help that we're the only Kingdom that seems to think having a large standing army is a good thing. Everyone else would rather just hide behind their walls and pretend that nothing is wrong! They fail to notice that Grimm attacks are growing larger and more frequent with each passing year. They're becoming continually more coordinated and organized, almost as if they're chess pieces being strategically placed, sent out to test our defenses, find out our weaknesses."

The men share another glance at each other and Anderson asks "Where do we fit in on all of this?"

"Grimm or no Grimm, you six have re currently one of the few people on this planet that truly knows what it's like to fight an actual war," he replies seriously, "Wars that I don't think the people of this world are ready for."

"Doesn't matter is you're ready or not," a man replies grimly, "War will come regardless and steal the lives of all, no matter who."

"And now have accepted that stopping this war from happening is a completely futile effort, so instead, you want us to help prepare for the inevitability as best as we can," Anderson practically stated.

The general nods in confirmation.

"How much say would we have?" Anderson asks, "If we were to agree to go with you."

"Your ultimate power may very," he explains, "It ultimately depends on how you want to do this."

"What would we need to have control over the development and production of possible future military projects?" asks Anderson.

"Getting signed military contracts," a voice rang out as a door opened up and in walked Jacques Schnee and Professor Alan Ocel.

Jacques had been listening from the other room since the beginning and now decided to show himself.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced!" he calls out.

"Of course, gentlemen," the general calls out, "I would like you to meet Jacques Schnee, the CEO and founder of the Schnee Dust Company. The largest provider of dust in the world which I'm sure you've been told is practically the lifeblood of Remnant."

Each of the men stepped forward and respectfully shook his hand.

"Thank you for saving the lives of my men sir," Anderson humbly thanked.

"Think nothing of it," he replies modestly, "No one should have to die suffering like that."

"And Professor Alan Ocel," the general finished, "That man who examined your equipment."

"Pleasure to meet you all," he greets excitedly.

"As I was saying," the general continued, "In order to have control over your own projects, you must have contractual rights from the council and military, and in order to do that you must be a legitimate company."

"Which I can help you with that," Jaques offers.

Anderson turns to the men and he whispers, "What do you guys think?"

"We must be unanimous," Basuda urged, "We cannot have a shadow of a doubt in our choices, either all in, or all out."

"Doesn't really matter what I think," Streicher smirks, "I've been a soldier all my life, I can do with a few more years."

"Once a soldier always a soldier," Kowalski laughs.

"Though our hearts will mourn for what we once had, I have to believe we were given another chance for a reason," Genevieve replied confidently.

"What's the plan sirs?" Malarkey smiles warmly, "We followed you in, and we'll follow you out."

"Professor Ocel, what do you do exactly?" inquired Anderson.

"I'm on of the leading weapons and robotics researcher," he replies. "And I have been assigned to assist you anyway I can."

"The general said you examine out equipment," Ocel nods in confirmation, "What was your assessment?"

"That the propellant for you rounds severely outperform normal dust propellants," he replies.

"By how much?" asks Basuda.

"Would you like to see the relevant data?" he asks.

"How will we get started?" Anderson asks, "If you don't mind me asking sir."

"I can acquire the resources you need," Jacques smiles, "Of course you'll be a new company, so I'll have to open a partnership with you right off the bat if we are going to get anywhere."

"And finally I can get you the funding and contracts you need," the general adds.

"By the way, you think of a name yet?" asks Jaques.

"The Atlas Corporation!" Kowalski chirps proudly.

"No we are not calling it that!" Malarkey groans.

"Why not?"

"It's the name of their kingdom genius," Malarkey scolds.

"It is?" he asks scratching his head.

"Putting the name of it is out of the question since we have six "founders" here," Basuda added.

"How about Misriah Armories," ask Malarkey.

"From _Halo_?" asks Kowalski in surprise.

Yeah," he shrugs.

"We'll keep that one bookmarked if we can't find a better name," Basuda replied.

"The Blacklight Corporation?" Streicher offered.

"Kinda makes us sound like a mercenary group," Anderson shook his head.

"Prometheus," Seneviev mutters.

"You say something Alex?" Basuda asks.

"Prometheus," he repeated. "The Greek titan that was the champion of man, stole the fires from Zeus and gave it to mankind."

"The Prometheus Arms Corporation," Anderson tried out.

"Has a nice ring to it," Jaques replied honestly, "Mysterious enough to attract attention. 'Cept, drop the Arms part, I doubt weapons will be your only market and the name wouldn't help your case."

"Alright," Anderson shrugs, "We'l just swap the "A" with Aerospace. and the Corporation with Labratory." He turns to the others, "Agreed?"

They all agreed. Anderson turns back to Jaques and nods.

"Lovely," he smiles, "I'll send you the necessary paperwork."

"Any idea what our first project should be?" asks Basuda.

"Well," Streicher began, "We're going to need the materials to maintain and repair our equipment."

"Most importantly fuel and ammunition for our weapons and vehicles," Genevieve pushed.

"We still don't know if dust is a suitable replacement for petroleum," Malarkey mutters.

"It'll actually add more to our favor since there isn't a market for some of the said certain materials, thus making it exponentially cheaper for us to acquire them," Jacques adds thoughtfully. "There are actually numerous petroleum spots already mapped out! All we have to do is go there and get it and we can justify the cost if it falls within the budget of the contracts."

"It's almost as if someone as preset the board for us and the dominoes are all falling into place," Basuda mumbles to himself.

"Professor," Anderson calls over as he gets an idea, "How powerful are our rounds exactly?"

"Well, simply put, enough that a squad of four outfitted and properly trained soldiers could take down a fully trained huntsman or huntress alarmingly quick. Just as long as they have the range advantage that is. In fact, rounds like the ones I found in your weapons could very well help bridge the gap between the common soldier and the legendary huntsman and huntresses."

"General," Anderson turns with an ambitious smile, "What would you think about a new service rifle with a new type of rifle cartridge to go with it?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thus began the origins of the PAL (Prometheus Arms Labratory). The quote that Senaviev quoted was said by Napoleon and the Children of the White Queen cult was inspired by a story from the SCP Foundation, SCP 001: The Scarlet King. I'll tell you man, world building is hard, and I'm working with a world that has already been built. Actually, one could argue that world building in a pre existing world is harder since you have to make sure not to break the rules of the existing universe when mashing them with your own. I can only hope I'm doing an alright job and not completely butcher whatever it is I'm working with, the real question is why I haven't written my own book yet. I probably know the answer, please don't remind me. Anyways, thank you all for reading, if you have made it this far and would like to see more, go ahead and follow and favorite the story. Remember, Big brother is watching….always.**


	6. Neon Lights

**Author's Note: I am back children! That was a long holiday, but here I am with a new chapter. This will be just a quick catch up on the characters, because I'll be real with you, while I could write out the next two years of the crew being in Remnant, I simply don't want to. From forward out, if I hit a writer's block on a story, I'll just write for a different one, because that writer's block on my second story pushed me back for weeks. Here you guys go.**

* * *

Neon Lights

OPEN RECORD VIEW [2025.8.5 7:00:25 L]

CPT. Anderson, Grant T.

PLAY

Anderson focuses the camera on himself as he settles down in his seat.

"So…." he breathes out, carefully planning out his words. "Today marks the one year anniversary of our arrival. One year since we were plucked up by a family and give another chance so to speak." He lets out a chuckle, "The camera still reads the date back home, I guess I'll have to change it sometime."

He takes a moment to plan ahead what he's going to say. Anderson is not expecting anyone to ever find this recording, but should they ever do, it would benefit him greatly if they weren't able to piece together the true origins of his team.

"That's one full year of being in Atlas not only as a citizen, but as a soldier as well." He laughs to himself as he recounts the past, "Yeah, turns out the good General found our expertise to be wasted on a multi-year huntsman career course. My biggest question was how he managed to pull the strings that he did. I guess his position comes with quite the privilege. Fast forward a good few months that were spent getting use to aura and developing our semblances."

He pulls up a video of Kowalski putting together a LEGO construct with his telekinesis.

"It took quite a bit of trial and error…."

A recording of Streicher is pulled up of him standing on top of a platform ten feet in the air.

" _Alright, remember what your suppose to do?" asks Malarkey._

" _Jump down and then blink back to the platform!"_

" _Alright, testing in 3….2….1….Go!_

Streicher jumps off the platform and just as he reaches the ground, a sort of bluish-white ripple effect engulfs him and he teleports into the same spot….only ten feet in the air. Streicher clearly wasn't expecting this so he lets out a high pitched scream and he plummets to the ground with his limbs flailing about. He lands with a loud thud before the video cuts.

"But at least we have them at a controllable level now. The there's the company."

He pulls up a handful of files and photos.

"Jacques and Ironwood weren't kidding when they told us they were pulling out all the stops. They gave us multiple production facilities and manufacturing sites to work with."

He pulls up a weapons' magazine with an AR-15 style rifle featured on the cover.

"One weapons contract later, and now we have easily one of the military's new favorite rifles, the PAC-1 ICWS. The key point of the contract was to produce a rifle that could be easily modified from its stock configuration to suite the needs of any user."

Anderson opens the magazine to a page with a huntsman holding said rifle fitted with a chainsaw bayonet.

"This one's my favorite," Anderson chuckles. "They love the new 5.56 cartridge a well, we call it the .223 Remington cartridge and it's found favor in the huntresses and huntsman due to its ability to punch well above its weight plus the added bonus of being able to carry twice the amount of ammunition for the same weight as compared to a 7.62 round."

"The council, the General and Mr. Schnee were completely fascinated by our armored vehicles. True there were suspicions on their usefulness and combat effectiveness, but one test run later, as well as platoon of mechs destroyed and disabled….they changed their mind rather quick. They asked me if my team and I could reproduce ."

He then pulls out a photo of a military base.

"This is our testing facility: Fort Solitaire. Located in the most one of the most remote and northern parts of the continent feature flat ice planes for thousands of miles. With access to about a million acres of land, many of military tests are performed here alongside mech and arctic warfare training. I personally thought it was a dream come true."

He places the files back into his desk.

"So that finally lands us here," Anderson sighs stressfully, "I am going to be straight with you, this entire world isn't prepared for a full scale industrialized war. We are looking at this with about a good 80 years of hindsight and we know for a fact that this world is gonna be in for a rude awakening. This is arms race is only the beginning and like what I've seen, this is all going to lead to the bloodiest war this planet has yet to witness. I am talking a generation defining, and empire collapsing scale. The largest shift in the status quo that has yet to be witnessed by anyone currently living." He brings his hand up to his face, "And we, as the current generation get a front row seat as the world tears itself apart."

End Record View [2025.8.5 7:05:56 L]

* * *

Within Hanger 13 at Fort Solitaire sat the team all working on their own projects. Kowalski sat there at his desk as he stared off at his team. Malarkey and Senaviev were in the back test firing different types of ammunition on armor through their new .50 caliber heavy machine gun. Streicher was practicing physics and geometry as he attempted to calculate the bullet drop and weather effects on their new rounds, and finally, Basuda and Anderson were discussing feature company endeavors.

"As you know, the General Purpose Rifle project was a success and as adult, the council has agreed to an increase in our budget," Basuda lays out the paperwork.

"How much more?" asks Anderson as he opens the file.

"Not including our updates and modifications, they'll fund us, but only for the next three projects," Basuda replies, "Obviously the Infantry Fighting Vehicle and Main Battle Tank take priority, but as those two come to a close, now is a good time to decide on the third."

"Hm, so that puts aside our more experimental crafts than," Anderson muses, "Okay, we'll set aside the UH-1 and AH-1 as those will be the most cost heavy. The F-1 will have to be set aside since we're not quite in the position to replace the bullhead quite yet nor does the Atlas need an air superiority aircraft….yet."

"What about the A-1?" asks Basuda. "It's faster and more maneuverable than nay aircraft from this world that I have seen, and it could easily carry a payload large enough to wipe an entire armored column."

"Sir, Ocel's calling you!" Kowalski calls out.

"Put him on," Anderson replies.

Ocel pops onto the screen.

"Professor," Anderson and Basuda greet.

"Captain, Lieutenant," he responded back, "Have you made a decision."

"We have," he replies, "Here, I am forwarding you the files titled A-1 Thunderbolt."

Ocel's eyes widen slightly at the readouts.

"You sure about this?" Ocel asks incredulously, "It can be done, but….this is quite the loadout you're asking for. This is well beyond your proposed conversion for the C1 Hercules."

"The Hercules was just a cargo plane converted into a gunship by strapping a Gatling gun, some borders, and a howitzer to the side," Basuda replies, "We need something designed to be an attack craft from the ground up with a platform that can engage targets faster and well beyond the range of your current aircraft capabilities."

"But this cannon you're proposing literally runs the frame of the entire aircraft!" he sputters, "What is the point of having missile and bomb struts on the wings if you have this monstrosity!"

"Extend its uses and cement itself as a close-air support attack craft," Anderson explains, "While the 30mm cannon could easily destroy any target that it hit, it has a much better use for target saturation, with that in mind, the 11 hard-points on the wings can provide quite the deadly concoction of missiles, rockets, and bombs, easily swapped and outfitted for any ground target that had been targeted."

"When do you need the first prototypes?" Ocel asks.

'General Ironwood wants us to be combat ready within a year," Anderson replies.

"I'll see what I can do," he replies and then logs off.

* * *

Kowalski had been hard at work for the past year. His goal was to create a new type of engine from design forms his own world as well as Remnants. While he is the last person who would ever slander the pure muscle and power from the JP8 gasoline turbine engines of the Abrams, he could not deny the current dust engines' efficiency.

Back home, people would kill for the fuel efficiency that these dust engines could bring, while its not nearly as powerful as petroleum, it was something his team could not overlook. The key was down to the fuel, the only option his team could find was to somehow combine the pure power of petroleum JP 8 with dust, but that was where things got complicated. Dust wasn't exactly the safest substance to work with, and one false step could cause an explosion setting the team back who knows how long. In fact, that exact incident has happened, numerous times.

"Salutations Specialist!" a cheery voice exclaimed.

The joyful voice caused Kowalski to jump and he almost pulls his gun on the person. He turns around and comes face to face with a short, curly haired ginger, green eyes, and wearing an almost childlike innocence.

He exhales slowly and replies "Hi Penny."

"Hello specialist!" she salutes.

He straightens his posture, "What are you doing here?"

"Training!" she cheerfully responds, "As scheduled every week."

Kowalski thought for a moment, "Wait, really?"

"One does not own the single largest training installation on the planet and not use it!" she happily chirps. "With access to 1.12 million acres of land, Fort Solitair is the primary training grounds for some of Atlas's most elite."

"Oh," Kowalski mused. "Strange how I've never seen you around here before."

"Haven't you explored the other areas of the site?" she inquired curiously.

He shook his head, "Nope, these four walls and the range out back have been all I've seen of this place for the past six months."

"Alright, come on then!" she chirps.

She then grabs his hand and pulls him out of the chair causing him to let out a yelp of surprise.

"What?" he cries.

"Let's go outside," she tells him. "You said you haven't explored this installation yet, so let's go."

"Penny I can't," he replies.

"Well why not?" she raises an eyebrow.

"I got work," he replies, "I'm on a project."

"Hmm," she ponders, placing her hand under her chin, "What are you working on?"

"Classified!" he quickly responds while trying to reach for the blueprints which Penny snatches from him. "Hey!"

"Don't worry, I have the clearance," she replies moving the papers away from the poor specialist. "Hm, it looks like some kind of new engine."

"Yeah,it is," he replies, calming down.

"It looks like you've already built them though," she peers at the said engines across the hanger.

"It's not the engines that's got us stumped," he sighs.

"Then what is it that's halted your progress?" she inquires.

"Well…." he suddenly snatches the papers bake leaving a confused blinking Penny. "We're having issues with the fuel."

"Then let's go!" she smiles pulling him again.

"What do you mean let's go?!" he cries.

"You told me you've hit a roadblock that has halted your progress," she replies soundly, "So that means you now have free time! The top 10% of all productive workers take 17 minute breaks every 52 minutes of work on average, and you;ve been none stop at work for the fast 12 hours, 37 minutes, and 21 seconds. It's time for you to take a break."

"Uh, but-"

"Sir," she called out to Anderson, "Is it alright for me to take your soldier out for some fresh air?"

"Go ahead, just don't hold him for too long!" he shouts back.

Penny salutes and the drags Kowalski towards the exit. Anderson turns back to Basuda who was wearing a wide smile which causes Anderson to start laughing.

* * *

"Why are we on the roof?" asks Kowalski as he climbed up the later.

"It's the best spot to observe it!" Penny explained.

"Observe what?" he asks as he reaches the top.

"Just look at 260 degrees North West for 45.60 seconds."

"What?"

Penny then physically turns him forcing him to look out across the frozen wilderness with nothing but flat ice for miles to see.

"Here it is," Penny breathes with childlike wonderment.

Just as the sun set, vibrant green lights started flowing out from the horizon like a giant wave with the ice practically glowing from the light given off. As the wave ripple through the sky, moe colors started to form including shades of yellow and red.

"I always enjoy coming out here for these," she smiles, "The flat seabed acts almost like a mirror as it reflects. Since it's an imperfect mirror, the light is blended together instead giving off a glow."

"It's quite the view," murmurs Kowalski.

"So what's got your team stumped?" she asks curiously.

"Fuel," he answers simply.

"Oh?"

"Mainly fuel efficiency and power," he explained, "It would seem you can't have either and I'm just trying to find a sort of middle-ground. The only idea I have is to mix dust into petroleum and see what happens if I ran it through and engine. It also has to be somewhat stable." He lets out a tired sigh, "The automatically rules lighting and fire dust. It could be any combination."

"I think at this point you should take inspiration from nature," Penny suggested.

Kowalski turns to her as she stares serenely off into the night sky.

"Take water for example, it's slow and follows the path of least resistance, but increase its size and you have an incredibly vast and powerful force that ultimately controls the world."

"It's not nearly as powerful as glaciers though," Kowalski muses.

Penny turns to him with a smile slowly forming, "Literally the most powerful form of geological force imaginable, over thousands of years able to carve out valleys, level mountains, and tame seas. Solid and completely unstoppable unless the temperature changes." He then thinks for a moment, "Wait…." He turns to Penny and says "You didn't…."

Penny softly giggles.

"Clever girl," he breaths.

Her face turns to a frown, "What do you mean-oof!"

Her eyes turn eide as Kowalski embraces her.

"You are a genius!" he then runs off, "I'll pay you back later!"

Kowalski finally had a spark, it would be complicated but if his hunch was right, his fiend Penny may have just helped him find that sweet goldilocks zone that he had been pining for.

"God I am blind and stupid," Kowalski murdered as he slid down the ladder, "Why didn't I see it before?!"

Kowalski left poor Penny there on the roof dazed and confused as she was attempting to process what had just happened.

"You're….welcome specialist?" she murmured out confused to the empty roof. She glances around wearily, "What just happened?"

She glances down and places a hand over her chest, "I feel funny."

It wasn't a bad feeling, no not at all, instead it felt warm and bubbly, kind of nice actually….but still alien. She had never felt this way before and it completely perplexed her. She the thought of a quick solution, one that she always went to when she didn't understand something.

"I'll have to ask Partner Ciel about these new feelings," she says to herself happily and then walks off.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Thank you all for reading, I don't know how many were waiting on this, but sorry for the long ass wait. I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, I want to use Penny more since I felt they basically wasted her character in the show, but that's just me, whether she lives or not is not decided. No I am not pairing Penny up with the OC...well okay I might, but as for right now no. The warmth is supposed to be her first time feeling good about helping a friend, that's what I had in mind, but we'll see. Also, one last question for you guys: The Atlas Expeditionary Force, or The Atlas Marine Corp.? Give it some serious thought.**

 **My reference for the speed of a bullhead is based off of that of a pelican from Halo which is 417-561 mph according to Halo Waypoint, so we'll put a bullhead's max speed around that when I make judgements for the other aircrafts I bring into this story. Now they won't be just pure Earth vehicles, honestly would be wasteful if you didn't try to combine the two. It'll be something as simple as giving a C-130 VTOL capabillties for example, just for the ease of take off and landing. I'll go more in depth into this later when I actually have more vehicles in.**

 **Side note, Fort Solitair is based off a real place. It's heavily inspired by Fort Bliss outside of El Paso, Texas, famous for have the largest training installation at 1.1 million acres (1700 square miles) in the world, perfect for training artillery, tankers, mechanized infantry, and so much more. The rooftop scene has some truth to it, but the reality is a lot more dark. Fort Bliss is right there dead on the border to Mexico. If you look to the south of the base, on the other side of the gigantic barbed wire fence, and across the Mighty Rio Grande which cuts between the two countries, there lies the city of Juarez. I'll let you guys do your own research on it since it's really not my part to talk about it as I've never seen it other than videos, but they say if you stand on the roof at night and look over, you can see tracers fly up into the air from all the gunfights.**

 **Thank you all for reading and I'll see you next time. Remember, Big Brother is watching...Always.**


	7. Georgia

**Author's Note: This is gonna be little different, this is an experiment I am going to do. This is for a bit of characterization before I officially continue the story, expect five more of these.**

 **Dialogue- voice over**

* * *

Georgia

Within the small room stood Anderson as he geared up, slowly taking inventory of all his equipment .

[I have learned throughout my career as well as my in life,]

He picks up a syringe and flicks it a few times.

[You will always run into obstacles.]

He picks up a defibrillator pack next, and rubs the pads together.

[The best way to deal with them is with tact and surgical precision.]

He then examines the blade of a scalpel before packing it away. Outside the room, a squad of insurgents are gathering with a battering ram.

"Prepare to breach!" one of them whispers.

They take ahold of them ram, bring it back, and then….

*slam*

The metal door manages told hold but catches Anderson's attention. He quickly snatches his rifle from the table.

*slam*

He opens up the under-barrel grenade launcher and loads in a blue tipped, 40mm grenade labeled "HEAP." (High Explosive Armor Piercing) Flicks up the launcher sights and turns off the safety.

*slam*

He quick aims the rifle and fires the grenade launcher. The grenade penetrates the metal door leaving behind a small scorched hole. The squad on the other side let out screams as they are enveloped by a light as bright as the sun before being showered by molten metal. Their aura held for the most part, except for the unfortunate two men in front who took the blast directly, their disfigured and charred bodies crumpled to the floor, and another third man survived but his chest face and left arm was covered with third-degree burns. From back in the room, Anderson took note of how the insurgents were still alive, and screaming.

"Get back on it!" the leader barks, "Let's get that bastard!"

[But sometimes….]

Anderson quickly, but calmly empties the spent shell from the launcher and then places a fresh on into it, this one was gray tipped, labeled CANI instead.

[You're going to have to be a little more blunt.]

He fires off the round, the door and the wall surrounding it are peppered with a shotgun like pattern. Anderson lowers the rifle as light begins to leak through the holes. He listens in the silence for any sign of movement. This time no one got back up and after a few moments, Anderson nods in satisfaction.

* * *

"My asthma," the old lady explained, "They said they'd fix it but it didn't make any difference at all."

Anderson sat their patiently listening while silently questioning his judgment on agreeing to this. Anderson ponders for a moment trying to think of what to say.

He shrugs and says "Well, sometimes doctors make mistakes." He flips the case file over and read the name aloud, "Anna," he looks back up and continues, "And you have to try twice as hard to fix them. Are you using your inhaler?"

"All the time," she replies honestly, "I go through one a week."

Aneros scrunches up his eyebrows.

'That doesn't sound right,' he thought.

He quirks his eyebrow and asks "Are you sure you're using it right?"

The lady seemed to take offense as she defensively asks "Do I look like an idiot?"

Anderson shakes his head replying "Nope."

He honestly didn't know what she looked like, how someone looks isn't always the correct assumption, it may tell you how they live but everything from then on is just pure assumptions. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little curious.

"Why don't you show me how your inhaler works?" he offers.

The lady reaches down into her purse and pulls it out. Anderson watches with a complete deadpan expression as the lady uncaps the inhaler and sprays it onto her neck like a perfume bottle. At this point, Anderson could feel smile slowly creep up onto his face and he couldn't help it.

* * *

Weiss walked through the hospital halls with a frown on her face. It was supposed to be a normal day, but then she got a call from her sister and she now has one more stop. It just so happens she needed to get a physical done before she registers for Beacon.

She stops dead in her tracks as an old lady come bursting out from the free clinic room grumbling "Jerk," under her breath she passes her.

Her eyes shifted from her to Anderson as he walks out of the clinic.

"Grant," she greets.

"Weiss," he smiles, "How nice to see you."

"What was that about?" she asks as she follows him to the front desk.

"Valian chicken recipe," he replies with a grin as he walks to his office. "I had thought that my early years as a doctor as well as my five years as an officer back on Earth would have made me more resilient to stupid people, yet I am still in awestruck at people. Anyway, why are you here?"

"I'm waiting to get my physical signed," she replies matter-of-factly.

"And you came all the way to see me?" he asks, faking a flattered look.

"No, but it so happens that getting this…." she holds up the forms, "Signed, is on the way to what I really came here for. You know Winter called."

"Did she now?" he smiles.

"You wanna explain what happened at the Weekly Training today?" she narrows her eyes.

"Got to teach the kids how to perform surgery in the field," he grins.

"Grant. Explain. Now," she growls.

* * *

Earlier that Day

"Class," Winter greets the group of specialist trainees and students. "This is CPT. Anderson for those who haven't met him from our last medical lesson."

The group stares suspiciously at the teen as he places a piece of dip into his mouth.

"As you know," Winter explained, "Aura can only protect you from so much. It is inevitable that someone on your team will be injured at some point on a mission. These lessons are to prepare you for when the worst happens so you'll know what to do."

A student raises his hand.

"Yes you," she points to a huntsman student.

"Ma'am are you sure about this?" he asks suspiciously.

"In spite of his age and…."

Winter glances over to Anderson as he cracks open a can and takes a long sip.

"His apparent addiction to monster, dip, and velcro…."

She looks back to the group.

"He's one of the best major trauma surgeons I know, and I personally thought you all could learn better from someone a little closer to your age."

"Closer?" one cried incredulously, "He literally IS our age!"

"Captain you wanna take over?" she asks.

"Thank you," he replies. "Okay class, if you were here last week, you will remember that we went over basic human anatomy and we watched field surgery performed on video."

They all nod.

"I hope you studied, because now we'll see it in action," he continues, "For today, you will witness and have to treat live tissue trauma. Any questions?"

"Live?" a female student squeaks out.

He turns to his left and says, "Bring it out."

The entire group goes wide eyed as a pair of soldiers drag out a live pig on a leash. Even Winter was surprised by this.

"Grant, are you sure you know what you're doing?" Winter asks wearily.

"Oh yeah," he replies confidently, "It's how I was trained and is a standard requirement for infantry. I'm not saying they need to stitch it back up, they just need to stop it from dying."

Anderson then pulls out a 9mm pistol, loads it, and takes off the safety.

"Wait-" Winter cries out.

*bam* *bam*

Anderson fires two rounds into the pig's side. The pig lets out a loud, pained squeal and falls over passed out. Silence filled the area as everyone watched with their mouths dropped at what just happened. Anderson, with a blank face, lowers the pistol and faces the students.

"So," he instructs as he spits into a bottle, "Go save its life."

The group was filled with mixed reactions: some grew pale, others started crying, others shaking, a couple even fainted.

Flashback Ends

* * *

Anderson and Weiss were left in silence as they stared at each other. Anderson with his casual look while Weiss wore a large scowl. Anderson slightly averted his eyes in attempt to avoid the death-glare, but Weiss just narrowed her eyes further. Anderson looks back right as Weiss's eye starts to twitch.

He lets out a sigh and says "It was fine, the pig lived."

"Doesn't excuse you traumatizing children Grant!" Weiss screeched.

"The youngest was 17 Weiss, they gotta learn at some point if they wanna pressure on further into their careers as professional soldiers and huntsman," he counters.

Weiss lets out an angry distressed screech akin to that of a velociraptor.

"Weiss you're making as scene!" he warns.

Weiss snaps out of it and glances around to find a bunch of nurses, doctors, patients, family member, etc., all staring at her. She, with her eye still twitching, grabs Anderson by the color and pulls him down to her eye level.

"We. Will. Discuss. This. Later," she hisses through her teeth.

Anderson quirks his eyebrow and shrugs as she lets him go.

"So how was your day?" he asks randomly.

Just like that, Weiss snaps out of her rage and replies politely, "It was fine, was just busy getting a lot of paperwork for Beacon filled out. My physical as the last part." She holds up the signed paper.

"That's nice," he murmurs as the pair walk to the front desk.

"It is 1700," he announces to the Dean of Medicine as he passes the front desk. "Ready to punch in that time card."

"It's 4:45," she corrects him.

"I was rounding up," he adds while pulling up a pen.

"Caroll Moss," the Dean calls out, "Please see Dr. Anderson in Exam 1."

"Woah, woah, woah, not so fast Cathy," Anderson calls out.

He then walks over to a woman getting up from the chair.

"It's Carroll," she corrects politely, but clearly annoyed.

"Uh," Anderson looks at his watch, back to the Dean, to Weiss, and back at Carroll. He looks at her feet and asks "Trouble with the leg?" The woman nods, he looks at her hand and notices an engagement ring. "When's the wedding?"

"This Saturday."

"Oo," he whistled, "Not much time to fit into that pretty dress," he looks back at her feet and continues "And no time for practical shoe shopping. You're running two miles a day further than you should be."

She reaches down to right below her knee and says "It hurts right he-"

"New shoes, less miles, and the next day on the afternoon coach, you'll look beautiful," he moves onto the next patient, a middle age man with a plump body, and a balding head.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I can't get my contact lenses out," he responds.

Anderson leans closer and looks at the man's eyes.

"Out of what, they're not in your eyes," he replies.

"But they're red," the man protests.

"That's because you're trying to remove your corneas."

Anderson moves onto the next patient, a man of similar proportions to the first, only he had a full head of colored hair, looks sickly, and is sweating.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Uh lately," he nervously explains, "My wife had noticed that-"

"Yeah, yeah, symptoms, we're working on a personal best here," he points at the front desk.

"Uh, numbness in my feet and hands, constipation…."

"And?"

Weiss walks over and protests "Maybe he doesn't feel comfortable talking about his private-"

"Well neither would if I was having trouble controlling my pee pee," he laughs looking back to the poor man.

The man opens his mouth to complain before Anderson quickly cuts him off.

"You're a dentist," he states, "Nitrous Oxide poisoning, which means you're either dipping into your own supply or you've got a bad valve in the office. Laughing gas rehab is probably more expensive than the plumber, meanwhile get yourself some B12." He turns and calls out "Who's left?"

Anderson then moves onto the last patient, a late teens early twenties college student.

He raises his hand and worriedly says "I can't see."

Anderson, Weiss, and the Dean actually share a look of worry as they look at the young man.

The man smiles and says "Naw, I'm just screwing with you."

Anderson snort and rolls his eyes.

"It's a hangover," he explains, "My prof told me he'd fail me next time if I didn't show up with a doctor's note."

Anderson shares a look with the dean before saying "Go make friends with the dentist, he'll give you a little note and maybe a little nitrous to take the edge off."

Anderson and Weiss then walk out the exit.

"This is your fault I even work here by the way," Anderson grumbles at Weiss.

"Grant I told you, you didn't have to take the qualification tests," she replies.

"You also didn't tell me that the would actually take my score seriously," he counters, "And you also got your mother and Winter to peer pressure me into accepting my license and got me the job here without my consent!"

"I don't understand what the big deal is," she shrugs as they walk into the parking lot, "You were a doctor back on your home world, what's wrong with being one here?"

"One, it wasn't exactly the most common thing to have teenagers getting phds where I'm form, unlike here apparently," he grumbles "And also, I had a good four years between when I stopped practicing and went into the army, why in the world would bother going back when I already had a career I was satisfied with?"

"Yet you renewed your license wherever you had to," Weiss snorts

"Whatever," Anderson rolls his eyes, "How did you get here?"

"Klein dropped me off," she replies.

"Is he coming to pick you up?"

"I'd have to call," she sighs, she watches as Anderson pulls out car keys from his pocket. "You drive?" she asks incredulously, "Since when?"

"I've always been able to drive," he replies as he stops next to a gray four-doored sedan. "But I got the car about two and a half months ago." He looks at Weiss just standing there. "You want a ride home or you just gonna stand there?"

Weiss's eyes widen as she opens the car door and quickly climbs into the passenger side. Anderson rolls his eyes again before getting in himself.

* * *

 **Name:** Anderson, Grant, T.

 **Rank/Pay Grade:** CPT/O-3

 **DOB:** 1-AUG-2363 (I don't know the year system, so I'll have to dd this in later. Just assume real time is 2380.)

 **Age:** 17

 **Height:** 6'0''/1.83m

 **Weight:** 187 lbs/85kg

 **Appearance:** Assault class from BF4, added with ballistic inserts on the thighs, shoulders, upper and lower torso, crotch, and rear. Paratrooper ACH, duel earphones, and a pair of auto-polarizing goggles.

 **Loadout:** He is the teams leader and medic, he is charge of the acountability and health of all of his team.

 **Primary:** M16A5

Attachments: Trijicon ACOG 4x32/Red Dot, Tacticle Fore-grip

Ammo: 5.56x45mm NATO/.223 Remington

 **Secondary:** Desert Eagle

Ammo: .50 Action Express

 **Tertiary:** H&K 69A1

Ammo: 40x53mm High Velocity

 **Melee (One of the few who carries separately):** GI Issued E-tool

 **Gadgets:**

M67 Fragmentation Grenades

Defibrillator Pack

Med-Bag- All memebrs eache carry an individual-first-aid-kit (IFAK), Georgia essentially carries more complex equipment such as plasma, stimpacks, biofoam canisters and a surgery kit should the situation call for it.

 **Semblance:** Blink

Ability:

Telepooration: Allows Gerogia to traverse mid-sized distances almost instantly but starts to consume aura after extended use. Can only be used on himself.

Double-jump: He also posses the unique ability to jump twice while using his aura to create a platform in mid air with no extra cost to his aura bank.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Firstly, the different primary weapons are primarily mission based, if they are fighting Grimm, they will pick rifles with bigger rounds whereas fighting people would require lighter rounds. Exo-suits are a little bulky and generally the team wouldn't wear them unless the mission would require them to. Like if they were just walking down the street with an open carry, wouldn't really call for an exo-suit now would it? Remember, these are soldiers, they pick out what the mission requires. Also, don't judge me, I've been watching House M.D., so a chunk of the personality bleed into Anderson, as well as whole scenes. I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, I hope this experiment actually works out or I'm going to have to either call it quits, delete this chapter and replace it with something else, or carry on through and make one for all my characters. Probably the later. See you guys late and remember, Big brother is watching….always.**


	8. Bandit

**Author's Note: I am so sorry, I know I said I would get these out sooner. I got kind of lazy and my school started to pile up. Anyway, now I said earlier that my characters are either inspired by or flat out, ripped out of Rainbow 6: Siege, no where else is it ever going to be more obvious then these shorts. For the guys loadouts, Ghost Recon: Wildlands lets you carry three weapons and let's assume aura gives them higher strength and endurance.**

 **For Reference:**

 **Recruit: soldier in training.**

 **Cadet: officer in training.**

 **Student: huntsman/huntress in training.**

* * *

Bandit

Out on a grassy hill sat a pile of shrubberies overlooking the valley wooded below. Upon closer inspection of this shrubbery release that wasn't actually a shrub, it was in fact fabric woven to resemble his surroundings.

[Do you know what an artist and a sniper have in common?]

Poking out from the shrubs was the unmistakable outline of a rifle barrel.

[Details.]

Streicher peered through the rifle scope into the woods. Streicher, tonight gifted with the ability to see in infrared (python faunus), he could only do it for a limited amount of time, so he had to make sure he was aiming at the right target. It was night and nearly pitch black, which actually benefited him as he easily made out the clear glow of a fire from within the tree line.

[Like when a touch of color is out of place.]

Streicher pulls the bolt back, chambering a round before taking the safety off.

[When a shadow doesn't match its surroundings.]

He then flexes a muscle in his eyes and the entire area is engulfed by the bright light emanating from the fire.

[Or when a shape is not where its suppose to be.]

Near the fire, he could make out distinct shapes as they moved around, casually unaware of what was stalking them. The figures surrounded an elevated individual like some kind of meeting.

[The only difference are the stakes.]

Streicher then focuses the crosshairs onto the leader and begins calculating the adjustments in his mind. He would only have one shot at this before the group scatters. He exhales….

[Mine are higher.]

*BAM*

* * *

"Welcome to rifle qualifications!" Streicher announced to the group of trainees assembled before him.

He glances around at the crowd and he took full note of the very distinct cliches that had formed.

'As you all remember, you spend the good of the past week getting your rifles properly zeroed," he explains, "Now instead of engaging stationary targets at 50 meters, you will instead be engaging multiple human silhouetted, pop-up targets from between 75-500 meters within the time allotted with iron-sights."

"Yes you." Streicher points to a hand from a random cadet.

"500 meters sergeant?" he asks in disbelief.

"Yes," he replies simply.

"Will we be able to see anything sergeant at that distance?" the same student asks.

"What's the maximum range of the PAC M1 Rifle (M16A5)?" Streicher asks the crowd.

A recruit raises his hand, Streicher nods.

"3600 meters sergeant!" he shouts.

"Effective range?"

A female student answers, "800 meters area, 550 meters point sergeant!"

Streicher turns back to the original student, "As long as your rifle is properly zeroed as they should have been, the rounds you put down range should land wherever you are looking. This goes for all of you, you must pass with the minimum grade of marksman, that's 29 out of 40. If any of you should fail, the recruits will be recycled and held back until another class has reached this point of their training. For you students…." he narrows his eyes. "I will be forced to drop you from the course all together."

Everyone soon had worried looks amongst them, knowing this, Streicher rolls his eyes and says "Don't worry about that now, focus on learning! You have one week until test day, until then you will arrive here in the morning everyday practicing your marksmanship in order to prepare! Is that understood?"

"YES SERGEANT!" the group screamed.

"Form up at the ammo station to receive your ammo, from then on you will proceed to your assigned station, place you rifle and ammo down by the sandbanks and then form a single file line behind the shooting block. Fall out!"

Streicher then glances back at one of the sergeants assisting him, to his right was Winter who was overseeing the group of students.

"Sergeant, take charge," he instructs.

"Yes sergeant," the sergeant steps away and walks to the command station.

"You expect them to be able to do this all in one week?" asks Winter.

"They better," he snorts, "They've had those rifles since day one and have spent a week in the simulator. Most soldiers pass this test, it is literally the most basic thing, if you can't accurately hit a target, what good are you in a combat zone."

"But with such a fast pace, aren't you worried accidents?" she asks.

"I have with full confidence that the necessary precautions have been made to prevent such an event," Streicher replies as he opens a bag of sunflower seeds and places a handful into his mouth.

"All stations get ready," the range Sergeant announces through the PA. "All participants assume the kneeling position, cadets assume the standing position."

The shooters assume their positions and the range sergeant sounds a horn thus beginning the training session as Streicher spits out a wad of sunflower seed shells.

"We done as much as we could to prevent any….negligent discharges," Streicher continues. "We have them wear flak jackets, and ACH's, gave them eye and ear-pro, and we've pretty much drilled gun safety into their heads from day one."

"I am sensing a "but" coming," Winter comments.

"Well…." he chuckles, "You got forty dumb recruits, thirty clueless students, and twenty arrogant cadets. I would be incredibly surprised if I don't dropkick at least one at some point."

Winter nods in understanding.

"I swear," Streicher groans, "These idiots don't even know their holding a weapon half the time and end up flagging their entire platoons. Even some of the soldiers who are retraining. I just don't get how you can be that careless."

"It's the aura," Winter smirks, "Aura tends to save them from attacks, also you forget that a large portion of dust weapons don't actually fire solid rounds."

"Wait," Streicher pauses, "How many?"

"Take the former Atlas Army's standard issue rifle," she explains, "They fired rather low powered dust lasers with a rather limited ranger. They aren't use to rifles that can pierce aura within a well aimed few bursts. They also aren't use the rifles with rounds that travel as fast as those cartridges," she points at the rifles, "They're still in the era where you could physically see and dodge attacks. Even dust bullets are a little rare, many huntsmen and huntresses still prefer melee weapons over firearms."

"It's ironic too," Streicher snorts. "The .223 Remington cartridge is actually an under powered round, survivable even, given the circumstances."

"Yes," Winter replies, "But I've seen what the rounds can do to Ursas. I don't think there are a lot of people other than huntsman or huntresses who are used to that kind of firepower, and definitely not in the hands of an ordinary soldier. It'll take time before people start to realize it."

Streicher nods, but then mumbles "And it'll be quite the arms race when they do."

The pair spent the next thirty minutes silently watching as the assorted groups, observed their poster and body language, and took note of the ones consistently hitting their marks. The sergeants in charge of the range would occasionally announce the next position as the trainees performed. It was very regimented, they would fire at the targets, empty their magazines, reload, wait for the finish, get more ammunition, return the back of their station, wait for their turn, and repeat, recruits. As time passed, they moved from position to position before finally landing on the "standing" position. As the clock rounded the end, one of the sergeants motioned the ranger sergeant to wrap it up.

"Cease fire!" he announces, "Cease fire on the firing range!"

The trainees place their rifles on "safe" before blowing them. One cadet made the grave mistake of moving his rifle away from the range and instead turned to face the instructors this flagging anyone within that thirty degree arc. The moment Streicher saw this, he narrowed his eyes and surged forward at the surprise of Winter. Streicher's face was so grim, it was as if the devil himself had come and possessed the man.

He reaches down into a bucket and picks up a handful of spent casings and lobs it at the poor cadet all while nastily barking "You stupid, goddamn shavetail son of a bitch!"

He then rips the rifle from the terrified cadet's hands, rips the magazine out from it, pulls the charging handle back, checks for any rounds left in the chamber, before placing back on safe and shoving the rifle into the cadet's gut.

He then leans into the cadet's ear and snarls "You keep weapon pointed downrange or I will shove that fuckin' piece up your sorry fucking ass."

The cadet looks over to hs instructor, a captain for help.

The captain just casually crosses his arms and responds "Don't look at me cadet, the sergeant is right."

* * *

Winter and Streicher were found later walking along the treeline laughing at the ordeal.

"I swear they grow dumber every cycle," Winter laughs. "Last weak, one of them literally tried to hit on me!"

She started laughing harder than she thought of the look on the private's face at the end of it all.

Streicher shrugs, "Can't be any worse than brand new officers," he snorts, "Greener than the grass, duller than a plank of wood, and less self-aware than a rock, and the added benefit of arrogance of being a higher pay grade."

"Sounds like a story," Winter winks.

"It was my first deployment," Streicher nods, "I was just a dumb boot then, our Master Sergeant, we called him Topps, ws this old and grizzled veteran, his career was a little past his twenty year mark; was sitting in the office one day, leaning back with his feet on the desk. Suddenly, in walks this baby-faced, butter-bar, second lieutenant, practical fresh out of college. He asked Topps if he knew where the CO was, Topps replied "Hell if I know." The LT got pissed and told Topps to stand up at attention when talking to an officer. The LT was shaking and everything, Topps just quirks and eyebrow and lazily replies with something I remember to this day, ""I've had more time jumping out of the back of 6 boys then you have had in life". Within only a few seconds, all that bravado that the LT had walked in with left. The guy barely manages to stutter out something about telling the CO about this before he walked out the door. Topps wasn't done yet, he yells down the hallway "GEORGE! YOUR BOOT, LUEY WANTS TO TALK TO YOU!" You can imagine how well the conversation went done."

Winter sighs, snickering "I guess it's the same no matter what universe you're in. I am surprised these guys ever graduate in the first place."

"I fully expect a quarter of these guys to fail the rifle qual course, and two-thirds of the rest to barely manage to pass," Streicher then stops and lets out a loud groan, "That reminds me, I gotta call Max and warn him about his impending doom."

"Urban ops right?" asks Winter.

"Yep," he winces. "See you around."

"See you," Winter waves.

* * *

 **Name** : Streicher, Robert, M.

 **Rank/Pay Grade:** SFC/E-7

 **DOB** : 20-APR-2364

 **Height** : 5'10"/1.80m

 **Weight** : 152 lbs/69kg

 **Age** : 16

 **Appearance** : BF4 Recon mixed with Ghost Recon. His armor setup is more streamlined than the standard kit and he's missing the right shoulder pauldron, other than that, his gear should be similar to the others. His helmet offers a smaller profile without loss to protection and is mounted with a binocular system that operates as a rangefinder and hud.

 **Loadout** : Bandit operatoes as the teams recon and sniper, thus he specializes in long range reconnaissance, observation, drawing, and picking and engagin targets at long ranged. Certain enviornments calls for a different weapons system.

 **Primary** : Barrett M107A2

Attachments: Nightforce NXS 5.5-22x56, Bi-pod, ATPIAL IR Laser

Ammunition: .50 BMG

 **Primary-Urban** : Sword-Int. Mk18 Mod 1 Mjölnir

Attachments: US Optics ER25 5-25x58, canted reflex sight, ATPIAL IR Laser, Bi-pod

Ammunition: .338 Lapua Magnum

 **Secondary** : Glock 18

Attachments: 30 Round Magazine

Ammunition: 9x19mm Parabellum

 **Tertiary** : SIG Sauer MPX

Transformation: US Model 1860 Cavalry Sabre

Attachments: L3 EOTech Holographic, angled fore-grip, suppressor

Ammunition: 9x19mm Parabellum

 **Gadgets:**

M18 Claymore Anti-Personnel Mine

AN-M8 Smoke Grenade

Ultra Light Ghillie Blanket

 **Semblance** : Pointman

Ability:

Bullet-time: User's mind speeds up momentarily giving him vastly hightened speed, reflexes, and agility.

Overclock: Short, rapid boots of speed which allow Bandit to zip around short distances at increible speeds.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Honestly I put Exo on Bandit's SMG since there's almost no point in him carrying it without his exo-suit on, that's just added extra weight for no added benefits. The smg is pretty much only for room clearing and he would only really need it when he has the Barrett, since that rifle is a beast and would never work in close quarters. Also, I am changing Georgia's primary, I have no idea why I thought having an M4. Beowulf would be useful in anyway. I'll get to work on the next, but I make no promises, midterms are coming up. I hope I get the next chapter out sooner, see you guys then. Remember, Big brother is watching….always.**


	9. Kapkan

**Author's Note: I hope this comes up sooner than I fear. War peace, ignorance is strength, slavery is freedom.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Kapkan

In a dark room sat, in front of a glass, double-door sat a hooded figure. His back was illuminated by the lights from the room behind the foggy, glass door and they lit the figure enough to make out the man's eyes and his woodland patterned uniform. The man glanced around himself as the doors in the other room flew open and shaded figures made their way into the building.

[These soldiers think their training will keep them alive.]

The group fans out across the rom as they check every nook and cranny.

[They break down doors and come through windows weapons drawn.]

The leader tells his men to hold up as they stand behind the final door.

[But it's too late.]

The man watches closely at the handle as the leader slowly raises his hand to the door.

[They forgot the first rule of survival.]

Right before the leader touches the door handle, and explosion goes off spraying the door with blood as bodies flew. The man casually glances forward with a satisfied look.

[A real hunter always watches where he steps.]

* * *

Basuda stares straight ahead with a blank expression as he shifted his jeep into park, put on the parking brake, and shut off the engine. His eyes were filled with a sudden dread that had been with him for weeks. Today had finally come and he is still not prepared for what he is about to face. Yes, this was real.

With a deadpan tone and maintaining his blank expression, he silently says "I'm going to teach recruits room clearing." He pauses before rephrasing "Urban Ops." He grew more fearful as he continued on, "I'm going to teach a bunch of 17 to 21 years old who barely passed rifle qualifications….to clear buildings." He raises his hand and wipes his face while letting out a loud sigh. "This is going to be a long day."

He exits the car and opens the trunk, from there he puts on his FLC (Fighting Load Carrier,) and screws on a BFA (Blank Firing Adapter) onto the muzzle of his signature AK.

He slings his rifle, closes the trunk and locks the car.

"Bozhe moi," he mutters and walks to the compound.

* * *

Sometime shortly after debrief, the privates entered into the building searching for the instructors. Basuda round the stairs and watched as a pair of recruits dumbly walked around the corner. He snaps his rifle up and fires off a blank three feet from them. The privates jump and freeze while Basuda rolls his eyes and simply points at the floor. The privates take the hint and get down on the floor. He then gazes out of the window and sees another instructor at the entrance observing the river going in, he smirks as he pokes the rifle out and fires off a round for fun. The instructor looks up perplexed at Basuda, he simply waves before walking away from the window. While hunting recruits in the building, Basuda couldn't help but be reminded of the videogame Goldeneye and proceeded to hum the theme song as he skulked the floors. His fellow instructors all shot him strange looks as they simply didn't get the reference.

A few blanks go off as the recruits slowly shuffled into the room around the corner from him. He quietly hunkered down in the corner and raised his rifle as the clueless recruits rounded the corner.

"Hey, remember to check the corner over there," a recruit whispers.

"The corner? Why?" the other recruit asks, confused as he blindly rounds the corner.

*bam*

"Yepi!" he cries as he jumps three feet into the air.

His partner rushes to his aid but slips and falls onto the floor.

"Yeah, you're dead," Basuda states, "Nice fall. That's why you check corners," he taunts as they leave.

Basuda heard a commotion back by the stairs, so he walks over to the archway overlooking them and watches in utter fascination as three recruits slowly walk up the steps in a single-file line and fire off into the same corner.

"What are y'all shooting' at?!" an instructor asks from down below.

"I needed to fire off three rounds Drill Sergeant!" one of them responds.

Basuda finally had enough and shouts "Private!" and fires an off a blank at them. "Number three man is dead! You're dead."

"Actually you're all dead," the other instructor laughs.

The recruits glance at each other before getting down onto the floor.

"Yes, that's it, get down," Basuda taunts.

The other instructor climbs up the stairs and peeks out from the corner of the steps and begins firing upon more privates.

*bam*

"Oh my Oum, what the fuck!" a female recruit cries.

"You're dead!" the instructor announces.

"I'm dead?" asks a confused recruit.

"Yeah you're dead," the instructor responds back.

"You didn't even aim!" she protested.

"You shot up at the ceiling!" he counters.

Basuda had practically spent the entire day camping on that spot above the stairs, up to twenty different recruits had gone up those steps, and every single one of them had failed to look up.

"The weekend can't come soon enough," he grumbles. He quirks and eyebrow as a recruit made his made up the stairs.

*bam*

"You're dead!" he announces, "You are all alone, look up."

The recruit looks up at Basuda.

"You can lie down on the floor now."

* * *

"And that, was what my work week was like," he finishes. "It was quite the experience. I surprise myself every cycle with how much lack of common sense those recruits really lack. I suppose a good portion of them simply don't better, but that really only covers so much…." he glances over to his side, "You know?"

His audience, was a single baby arctic fox. The fox looks at him for a moment, before looking back to the fishing hole where he reaches in and snaps up a single fish and begins feasting on it.

"Thank you for listening," he murmurs as he turns back at the horizon and takes another sip of tea from his thermos.

He glances down as his scroll begins to vibrate, he glances at the caller ID and sees Streicher's name.

"Pryvet," he greets.

"So how'd it go?" he asks.

"Predictably," he replies, "They almost refuse to look up."

"Heh, figures," Streicher chuckles, "Mrs. Schnee is wondering what time you're coming back."

"I'll be another hour," he replies.

"Just don't be late for dinner again," Streicher says simply, "I am not going to wait on you again."

"Then just start eating without me," he shrugs.

"Which is what I plan to do," he replies, "Also, don't bring back another companion."

"Companion?" Basuda asks confused, "I'm not sure what you mean?"

"Look, Mr. and Mrs. Eagle have pretty much taken permanent residence on the front porch, which they spend every morning waiting for you," he scolds.

"Oh," Basude muses, remembering the eagles that had followed him home from a tuning trip one day, "Mr. and Mrs. Eagle, is that really their name?"

"Why should I be the one naming them?!" he cries, "They followed you home! Besides, they give me the creeps."

"Is that what's been keeping you on edge lately?" Basuda queries.

"I swear, they're eyeing me up every time walk past them," he growls. "I don't know if it's because I am a python faunus or not but….just don't bring anymore animals home alright?"

Basuda glances over to the baby fox who was staring innocently up to him.

"Right," he nervously drawls. "I'll see you soon Robert."

He hangs up, still staring at the fox who is now walking up to Basuda and takes seat right in front of him wearing a big goofy grin.

"Well this might be awkward explaining," he mutters to himself.

* * *

 **Name:** Basuda, Maxim, J.

 **Callsign:** Kapkan

 **Rank/Pay Grade:** 1LT/O-2

 **DOB:** 4-May-2363

 **Height:** 5'10"/1.80m

 **Weight:** 176 lbs/80kg

 **Age:** 17

 **Appearance:** Just google Kapkan, and add an exoskeleton, add wolf ears.

 **Loadout:** Kapkahn is the teams CQC specialist, urban ops is his domain and he dominates it.

 **Primary:** AK-12

Ammunition: 5.45×39mm

Attachments: IP78 Kashtan x2.8

 **Secondary:** Makarov Pistol

Trasnformation: Kukri Knife (Primary Hand)

Ammunition: 9x18mm Makarov

 **Tertiary:** Dragunov SVD

Ammunition: 7.62x54mmr

Attachments: PSO-1M2

 **Tertiary-Urban:** Saiga 12

Attachments: OKP-Reflex Sight

Ammunition: 12 Gauge 00 Buck

 **Mellee** : Straight Blade Machete (Off-hand)

 **Gagdets:**

M84 Stun Grenade

Mk3A2 Concussion Grenade

EDD (Enty-Denial-Device): His on hand crafted mines that can be either mounted on doors or windows, or be set up on the ground with a tripwire.

 **Semblance:** Okhota

Abilities: Kapkan is a gifted hunter and tracker, his abilities only make it easier.

Peregrine: Kapkan summons a falcon that flies overhead and provides over watch feeding him valuable data. The falcon may also attack targets of his choosing.

Andean: Also Kapkan to summon a giant condor which can carry him in flight for short distances.

Hellhound: Kapkan summons a pair of flamming dogs that resemble German Shepherds. They don't take much more than a couple bursts of a rifle to kill but they are fast, inredibly aggressive, and are relentless chasers. They spawn in balls of lightning, and explode upon death.

* * *

 **Author's Note: That's three down, three more to go, more in the lengths of what they were supposed to be, couldn't think of as much content to draw him out, I think I got Kapkan's character down enough, or at least snippets of it anyway. No, they won't all be trainers, just those three characters are, the others, I'll introduce in their own ways, I hope I make their personalities distinct enough, but I'll have to wait and see. Here's a little extra for you guys, my gamers will know what I'm talking about. I'm gonna leave off on one question, to my Seigers out there: Who can?! Kapkan!**

* * *

 **Teaser:**

Another year of the Mistral Regional Tournaments had come and gone. For the past three years, Pyrrha had won crashing through all the barriers before. This was should be just another fight, but yet, Pyrrha could feel it, something was just off.

"And now for the final match, to determine who is the winner of the 51st Mistral Regional Tournament!"

Pyrrha readies herself as the announcer builds up the audience.

"One match to win it all!" he screams as the crowd goes wild. "In this corner our very own, three year reigning champion, Pyrrha Nikos, the Invincible Girl!"

Her gate raises open and she walks forward with her "theme" played as she entered the stadium.

"And in the other, the contender!"

She gazes warily at the closed gate, behind it she could barely make out the figure, but she was able to tell one thing, he was big.

"The two year reigning champion of the Atlas Regionals, Alexsandr Senaviev, or as you may no him…."

The crowd grew silent as they all watched with bated breath.

'This'll be interesting,' she thought to herself.

"Lord Tachanka, the Sentinel of Atlas!"

The screen showed a massive red banner with a yellow star, and a crossed hammer and sickle in the center while the speakers blasted a crescendo of trumpets and a song with lyrics in old Atlas began to play.

 _Soiuz nerushimyj respublik svobodnykh_

 _Splotila naveki Velikaia Rus._

 _Da zdravstvuet sozdannyj volej narodov_

 _Edinyj, moguchij Sovetskij Soiuz!_

 _While the song played, the gate rose up as Pyrrha watched her opponent enter the stadium._


	10. Tachanka

**Author's Note: The long awaited chapter is here. I am so sorry I took so long, my schedule got fucked and I had to help three different family members move. I think I finally got over my writer's block when trying to think what to do here. Here we go, the great Lord Tachanka, please enjoy.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Tachanka

At the center of an old, abandoned lobby sat a lone figure mounted behind a tripod. The gun mounted on the tripod was no ordinary weapon, the machine gun had a worn wooden stock, and weathered, stamped, steel receiver. An old, elegant weapon from a more barbaric time. The most distinctive part of the weapon was the disk shaped magazine which the figured inserted into the top of the weapon and hammered onto it locking it into place. He pulls the bolt back, turns the safety off and leans into the firing position. Out from the gun rips a cacophony of fire as the shooter rapidly switches between targets. The steel core 7.62×54mmR cartridges easily tore chunks out of the sides of the concrete pillars. When the gun's fifty round drum had finally run dry, the shooter pointed the barrel downward and leaned on the stock. He took a moment to admire his work and gave it a satisfied nod.

* * *

Pyrrha snaps up from the table with a startled gasp. She wearily looks around her and takes in the setting, slowly she regains her sense and as she glances down at her armor, she remembers where she is. She gets up from the table where she had been napping and walks over to her locker, from there she pulls out a roll of athletic tape and a small tub of chalk. She quickly powders her hands and begins to gently wrap the tape around her hands. She then proceeds to put on the rest of her armor, securing the plates and tightening the straps. Just another year, just another tournament added to her long resume. For the past three years, Pyrrha had won crashing through all the barriers before her. One the youngest fighters in the tournaments of the century running in this tournament. To her, this was should be just another fight, but yet it left much to be desired for Pyrrha. Her entire life has been built around the arena and it's safe to say that she's sick of this life. Any chance she could leave she will take it, she just needs to find the right moment.

A soft rapping on her door snapped her out of her thoughts. She quickly adjusts herself and goes to answer it.

"Is everything alright?" the man asks, it was her father.

"Yeah," she replies quickly, "I'm just about ready."

Her father's eyebrows wrinkle as he dons a concerned look.

"What's the matter?" he asks.

"Nothing," she lied.

"Pyrrha," he says sternly, "You know you can't hide anything from me."

Pyrrha relented and says "Sorry dad, I guess I'm just anxious about this match."

"But you never get anxious," he replies.

He thought about pressing it on further, but decided against it as he was pretty sure this was all his daughter was going to give him.

He checks his wristwatch as says, "Alright, well it's almost time, we'll talk more about this later."

Pyrrha quickly reaches back and snatches Miló and Akoúo̱ with her semblance. As she steps out into the hall, her ears are assaulted by the screams and cheers of the crowds in the stadium above. She adjusts the tiara on her head and walks forward through the empty hall.

"And now for the final match, to determine who is the winner of the Mistral Regional Tournament!" the announcer's voice rumble through the stadium.

Pyrrha readies herself as the announcer builds up the audience.

"One match to win it all!" he screams as the crowd goes wild. "In this corner our very own, three year reigning champion, give it up for the Invincible Girl, the Goddess of Victory, Pyrrha Nikos!"

Her gate raises open and she walks forward with her "theme" played as she entered the stadium, a combination of strings and brass finishing with a harp and choir announces her arrival.

"And in the other, the contender!"

She gazes warily at the closed gate, behind it she could barely make out the figure, but she was able to tell one thing, he was big.

"The two year reigning champion of the Atlas Regionals, Alexsandr Senaviev, or as you have come to know him as…."

The crowd grew silent as they all watched with bated breath.

'This'll be interesting,' she thought to herself.

"Lord Tachanka, the Sentinel of Atlas!"

The screen showed a massive red banner with a yellow star, and a crossed hammer and sickle in the center while the speakers blasted a crescendo of trumpets and a song with lyrics in old Atlas began to play.

 _Soiuz nerushimyj respublik svobodnykh_

 _Splotila naveki Velikaia Rus._

 _Da zdravstvuet sozdannyj volej narodov_

 _Edinyj, moguchij Sovetskij Soiuz!_

While the song played, the gate rose up as Pyrrha pulls out Miló and Akoúo̱ watched her opponent enter the stadium.

Out from the darkness came forth a man, equal to her in height, but at least double in mass. Even through his loose, woodland colored, combat fatigues, from what she could make out, the man was covered in pure muscle down from his obsidian polished leather boots, to his green metal helmet. He also wore a heavy flak jacket that looked like it could stop a round from a cannon and lastly, his face was hidden behind a metal blast plate. Infact, the only parts of his body that were exposed were the tip of his gloves and the eye slit in the face plate which held deep brown eyes staring back at her. Resting on his shoulders sat what looked like a folded up turret attached to a glass shield and a machine gun. The machine gun had a strange plate shaped magazine mounted on the top of the gun and like the man's uniform, it was well-kept, but still showed signs of age as the worn stamped steel and weathered wood was bathed in the stadium lights.

"Fighters take your mark!" the referee shouts.

The two back into their respective sides, never taking an eye off of one another.

Pyrrha readied herself as the timer counted down from three. When the red light had changed to a green light, an alarm blared telling her that the match had begun. Before she made a move, Tachanka swept the turret from off his shoulders and planted the tripod into the ground. The turret shield folded up and the machine gun pointed forward at her.

Tachanka pulls the bolt back and with a booming voice, he shouts "LMG, MOUNTED AND LOADED!"

'Oh shit,' she thought in surprise. There's a first for everything.

The LMG belched out a long stream of fire and time began to slow as Pyrrha brought up Akoúo̱ and crouched down behind it. Straining from the force, with her semblance, she manages to bounce two bursts before the gunner depresses the gun barrel and nails her in the knee. Pyrrha lets out a pained grunt as she collapses on that knee exposing her head just long enough for the gunner to take aim and fire.

*bam*

A single round sails over and domes her in the side of her head, sending her to the ground. With her ears ringing, she sees the pieces of the ground launching up around her as the gunner was doing a good job at simply keeping her suppressed. She glances at the board and notices her aura had gone down 15%.

She glares at Tachanka and thinks 'So it's going to be like that.'

She then rolls over to the side and launches her shield like a frisbee at the turret bouncing it off of the tripod and knocking the gun over. She rolls forward snatching the shield mid-flight while also pulling out Miló and switching it into rifle mode. She takes aim at Tachanka torso as he is scrambling to get the machine gun off the ground and rapidly fires off three rounds.

The first ricochets off of his helmet causing his head to jerk to the side. The second and third catch him in the left shoulder and forearm, and his hand is brought up reflexively catching the fourth bringing down his aura by 6%. On instinct, he pulls a lever and detaches the shield from the turret and brings it up blocking several more shots from Pyrrha's rifle. Tachanka held up the improvised shield until Pyrrha's rifle ran dry, the glass on one side had been shattered and fragmented, but it was clear not one round had managed to penetrate. Pyrrha, thinking on her feet, hurls her spear at the shield striking it dead center.

The weight and pressure change had surprised him slightly as his shield arm was forced down. He manages to look up in time to see Pyrrha's shield sailing at him right before it struck him right in the face plate knocking him off of his feet. The crowd let out a collective gasp during the brief feeling of free-fall.

Pyrrha summons her weapons back to her before breaking out into a charge at her opponent. As she approached the downed opponent, she notices Tachanka's hand was free from the shield…and also glowing blue. She brings her shield up just as her whole body is enveloped in a blue light and she is launched back.

Tachanka dives for the machinegun on the floor snatching it up and switching it into bipod mode as he urgently reloads it while Pyrrha flies back toppling over before she catches her self and skids to a stop. He manages to slap in a fresh magazine and pull the bolt back just as the Pyrrha rises back up with her weapons at ready. He quickly snaps the gun to her and fires right as she brings up her shield once again. Tachanka back pedals while also strafing right, firing short, 3 second bursts every two steps.

Pyrrha quickly realized the situation she was in and weighed in her options. She took a deep breath, counted to three, and then blitzes forward quickly covering half the distance. To her surprise, Tachanka chooses to close the distance and starts advancing on her quickly gaining momentum with each stride. She throws Miló and he forms a barrier of light around his left hand and swats the spear to the side. Using her semblance as launcher, she flies forward with the intentions of ramming him. Tachanka with his semblance still active, spreads the barrier and uses it to sidestep, slide past he, and kick her in between the shoulder blades. He pulls up the machine gun and fires the a burst before hearing a click, Pyrrha dives to the right avoiding the fire. She rolls forward and rushes Tachanka as he throws the gun on the floor and pulls out an smg and continues firing. She plants the end of her spear on the ground, pole vaults over the fire and spin kicks the gun out of his arm, rolls to the side and brings Akoúo̱ up blocking three rounds fired from Tachanka's handgun before slashing at his face. She slashes at him another two times before flipping Miló over, firing into his chest point-blank, and slams into his torso with a sidekick.

He lands some feet away but manages to catch himself, looking up, he makes eye contact with his opponent. He unslings his smg, upholsters his handgun, transforms them both into a hammer and sickle, **(AN:Yeah I know.)** then charges. Infused with his semblance, he hits the shield dead center with the hammer, the pair could feel the resonance and vibrations coursing through their bones. He bats the shield aside, slides under a spear swipe, punches her in the gut, hooks the sickle blade around the spear head and pulls it out of Pyrah's grasp. He follows it up with a knee into the gut, a headbutt, and a kick to her chest. He activates his semblance and throws a warp at her point-blank.

A warp field causes massive damage to a target through rapid shifting of the space in the target area. To put it simply, it was one of the most painful feelings she had ever experienced, what could have been only a couple of seconds felt like an eternity to her as the air around her body rapidly compressed and expanded. It felt like her body was slowly being torn apart from the inside out and the only thing stopping it was her aura. She is suddenly snapped out of reality when Tachanka swipes her off of her feet, quickly regaining her senses she rolls out of the way of a hammer strike. Using her shield as leverage, she slides across the floor kicking Tachanka in his head. She regains her footing and engages him with the intentions of finishing it. Tachanka tries his best to dodge and parry her strikes but is utterly devastated by her relentless attacks. After a few more blocks, Pyrrha catches a hammer strike with her shield and parries his sickle, she maneuvers the shield around and drives it into the outside of his elbow. Grabbing onto his wrist as leverage, she smashes him in the face with an uppercut from under his armpit and grapples his face slinging him forward.

Tachanka manages to land on his feet, he sees the spear flying at him and throws up a barrier catching just before it hits his throat. What he didn't see was Pyrrha who in one final move, surges forward with the force of a truck smashing through the barrier and slamming her knee into his chest launching him to the other side of the ring.

*alarm blares*

* * *

"And there we have it!" the newscaster screams as the referee announces Pyrrha as the winner.

"That's right!" her partner replies, "After what must be the closest match in the past fifty years of this tournament Nikkos comes out on top with only 8% of her aura remaining!"

"Proving once again, that she, Pyrrha Nikkos truly is, the one and only, Goddess of Victory" the female host finishes.

"With a fourth win under her belt, this girl has a bright future ahead of her," Tim continues, "But I wonder Karen, how will Nikkos ever top this fight?"

* * *

There, she had done it. An exhausted Pyrrha ignores the cheering around her s she watches her former opponent casually gather his weapons back up. He notices her watching and looks directly at her. His helmet had come loose during the fight and she saw the black eye and blood gathering around it. He picks up his helmet and politely nods before walking to the locker rooms as she is swarmed by reporters.

* * *

Pyrrha quickly made her way through the crowd, she had to make a quick getaway in order to avoid the legion of fans and reporters. With her current attire of jeans, hoodie, and cap, she blended right into the crowd. She then came to a full stop as she observed another teen. He was around her age wearing jeans and a leather jacket. It was clear to her who it was, the band aid by the left eye was a dead give away.

"Hello Ms. Nikkos," the teen greats, "We meet again."

"It's you," she murmurs with surprise.

The pair notice a commotion and the teen quickly grabs her hand and places her behind him right as a mob of reporters run past them. When they had left, the teen turns back to her.

He smiles warmly and asks "Reporters?"

He had an old Atlas accent that rumbled as he spoke. She nods, she felt comfort in talking to a person in a similar situation as her, gave her one of the few moments she had to fully relax and relate to someone.

"They're just dying for an interview with their "Goddess of Victory,"" she blanched at the name.

He laughs "I can sympathize." He turns back to the strawberry shortcake vendor "Two please."

He walks over to her and hands her a cake.

"Here, congratulation on your fourth victory."

She smiles, "You almost had me there."

"Was a good fight," he agreed. "I'm Alex."

Hold hols out his hand, she glances at it and accepts it.

"Pyrrha, it's to formally meet you."

"The pleasure is mine."

* * *

The two had found a bench and had spent the last several minutes just talking, eventually, the pair found themselves run dry of anything to say and they were left in an awkward silence.

"I gotta get out of here," she sighs, finally breaking the silence.

Alex looks to her for elaboration.

"This life I mean, I'm sick of it," she hisses with venom, "These people don't treat meet like I am even human and it honestly wouldn't surprise me if they didn't even think I was human. It doesn't help if I'm hardly making a difference to these people. They only see their "Goddess," this unachievable messiah that will make all their dreams come true or something. Then there are the creepy ones," she shivered at the last one.

"I can relate," Alex chuckles softly. "So you want to plan an early retirement?"

"I'm...I guess," she sighs, "I wouldn't go quite that far, but...*sigh* what I wouldn't give to go back in time and just be a kid in my dad's gym again."

"I understand," Alex replies sympathetically. "I truly do."

"So," he takes a bite out of the cake, "What's that plan?"

"I applied to Beacon and I'm going to be a huntsman," she replied sternly, "A real hero, someone these people deserve to look up to."

"Noble endeavor," Alex comments, "If a little naive."

It was her turn to look for elaboration.

"A person should not have to be commended for doing what is expected of them," he replies simply without ever looking.

It was common knowledge that many of Atlas athletes and students are heavily involved with their military.

"I don't know how you do it," she sighs, "You're a career soldier, attending a huntsman academy, on top of all this," she points to the stadium.

"It's not meant for everyone," he replies softly, "I'm use to following doing what my kingdom requires of me. Still, I do prefer the arena over actual combat I suppose."

"What's it like?" she asks, "How do I prepare?"

It was inevitable that a huntsman would go on a combat mission, and everyone knew from the start, that there was a risk that they may never come home. It was something every future graduate had to learn how to cope with.

"You don't," he replies solemnly, "I have seen things…things that no amount training could ever prepare you for. You just have to survive when the worst happens and learn to live with the aftermath."

This sent Pyrrha into deep thought as Alex threw his trash away and gets up.

Before he leaves, he turns back ad says "I'm going to Beacon too, maybe I'll tell you more there."

"See you then," she replies and watches as he disappears into the crowd.

* * *

 **Name:** Senaviev, Alexandr, N.

 **Callsign:** Tachanka

 **Rank/Pay Grade:** MSG/E-8

 **DOB:** 3-November-2363

 **Height:** 6'0"/1.83m

 **Weight:** 220 lbs/99.8kg

 **Age:** 17

 **Appearance:** All hail Lord Tachanka

 **Loadout:** Tachanka is one of the teams machin gunners, his job is to set up a defensive position and hold any ground gained during an advance while the other machine gunner advances on.

 **Primary:** DP-28

Transformation: Turret/Mobile mode

Attachments: Vertical Fore-grip

Ammunition: 7.62×54mmR

 **Secondary:** H&K P30L

Transformation: Anvil Hammer (Off-hand)

Attachments: Compensator

Ammunition: .40 S&W

 **Tertiary:** P-19 Bizon

Transformation: Sickle (Primary Hand)

Attachments: OKP-7 Reflex Sight

Ammunition: 9x19mm Parabellum

 **Gadgets:**

T-UGS: Tactical Unateended Ground Sensor, will detect targets up to 25m when placed.

AN-M14 TH3 Incendiary Grenade: thermite grenade that can burn through most known substances.

Semtex Grenade: contains RDX and PETN an can stick to most surfaces.

 **Semblance:** Sentinel

Abilities: **(Using the** _ **Mass Effect**_ **wiki for reference here.)**

Throw: Throw hurls a target away from Tachanka with damaging force.

Warp: Warp works by creating rapidly shifting energy fields altering the space in the target area shredding a target apart.

Barrier: Uses aura to project a barrier that shields Tachanka from damage.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I was divided a lot with how I was going to do this chapter, I'm positive people will be divided too. I found it hard since I didn't want Alex to win but I didn't want him to be a pushover, I hope I did alright. Actual writing quality though, I'll admit, I definitely need help with sentence variety. First things to state Pyrrha and Alex will not be paired together, I'm trying for a more brother, sister relationship. I'm sorry if I made Pyrrha seem out of character, I was trying to capture a more sensitive side of her. As for the whole fight, I did the best I could with the ons from the show, I also took heavy influence from the movie** _ **Captain America: The Winter Soldier**_ **. As for Alex's semblance, it is based off of the Sentinel class from** _ **Mass Effect 2**_ **, I figured it would fit since biotics can manipulate space. Expect to see the Vanguard and Adapt to also show up. I'll try to make the semblances fit the best I can, I'll go back and add them when I have it finalized. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. See you in the next chapter.**


	11. Sapper

**Author's Note:** **I just want to say thank you to my readers for being as patient as you are. This is really my first hand story where I haven't borrowed heavily from the original script, every chapter has been a completely new experience for me to write. I appreciate the oppertunites I get and** **I'm sorry how long it takes for a new chapter. This chapter also ended up being three times longer than I had expected and lasted through three concept changes and four rewrites, I think I am satisfied with how it turned up, but I won't know until after it's posted.**

 **Okay, so I was originally going to introduce the U2 Spy Plane in this chapter, but then something came up. This chapter is for my reader D.O.F, he brought up an excellent point in that I haven't touched on armored warfare in a while. This chapter should cover the loose ends I may still have as well as deal with things such as the paladin. There's going to be a small AU diverge from here, but I kinda need it in order to get the story to where it's gotta be. Hope you enjoy. I also feel I may not quite understand how polls work quite yet, because I asked for the name a a tank that I may never actually see ever again. T** **he line name though, I'll call it the Liberator. This chapter actually bounces back in time a little bit, Tachanka's chapter takes place a few months before the begining of the show. Here are a few notes to be considered before the story. The Paladin at this point in the story has already been through all the testing and is about to go into production. Winter basically has the rank equivalent of a major and I should probably change to calling her that in the future.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY and the majority of the equipment featured in my story is property of the US Military and/or other nations.**

 **Beta-read by JustRandomGuy**

* * *

Sapper

[Who can deny the sudden thrill of an explosion?]

A figure walks up to the firing range and eyes the concrete wall before him.

[A sudden flash giving way to an earth shaking force.]

The figure picks up the recoilless rifle sitting by the range, kneels, opens the rear hatch, and inserts a HESH round.

[An ignition of primal sense.]

The figure hefts the launcher onto his shoulder and fires. The world around slows down as the round flies towards the target. As it hits, the tip squashes and a concussive force is blown throughout the structure.

[The gods may have given us fire….]

The figure waits a moment before the wall lists over and collapses.

[But blowing stuff up, that was our idea.]

The figure stands up, lowers the launcher, opens the hatch, and pops out the spent shell.

* * *

 **8 Months After Arrival**

At the crack of dawn at the test range of an Atlas military base, a familiar silhouette drove through the fields and over the hills. To the outside world, they heard the constant creaks from the steel tracks, the roars from the gasoline turbine engine, and the dust storm it kicked up as it drove. To the crew inside, all they heard was the music they were playing through their helmet radios. Each of the four men in their element, bobbing to the rhythm beats and guitar chords with some going as far as singing along to the lyrics.

" _Hey y'all prepare yourself for the rubberband man_

 _You've never heard a sound!_

 _Like the rubberband man,_ "

"Sing it!" Malarkey cheered cueing Kowalski to continue on.

" _You're bound to lose control_

 _When the rubber band starts to jam!_ "

Streicher lets out a yawn and a stretch.

"Hey sir, how are we looking?" he asks.

"We should be coming up on the range in a few miles," he responds. "How's she running Kowalski?"

"Fine as ever sir!" Kowalski replies back.

After the company was established, General Ironwood sent teams of the best engineers and scientists to study and reverse engineer the Abrams. Turns out the manufacturing of the parts weren't actually the hard part, it was acquiring the materials needed. The metals like copper and iron were easy to get, even the ceramic for the chobham armor was relatively seamless, it will require a little creativity on how to manufacture it in large quantities, but that's something Ocel was hard at work on and they could work it out after testing wraps up. The main issue was lack of one very specific metal used for both the armor and sabots.

"She's an almost complete carbon copy of the Sky sir, everything from her smoothbore 120mm cannon down to each individual bolt." He then quickly adds, "Except it's painted woodland instead of desert beige."

"Due the gracious generosity of our hosts," Kowalski drawls, "You'll be happy to know that our maintenece time and requirement for our equipment has been reduced to about half. We'll still have to spend a decent amount of time when we do our checks, but atleast we won't have to live in the motorpool, the fuel burns slower, and the parts take longer to wear out."

"Any other upgrades?" Anderson asks.

He gleefully lists them "We applied enough gravity dust to the undercarriage to reduce the amount of stress on the tracks without turning it into plane as well as reducing the friction between the ground and the tracks. We then lined wind dust along the frame and just a little bit around the engine. The wind dust increases the tanks aerodynamics and reduces drag the effects wind resistance. The dust on the engine helps increase the acceleration while also reducing the overall noise. As a result…."

"We're faster and quieter," Streicher finishes.

"And quicker," Kowalski quickly adds.

"How much faster are we talking about?" Anderson curiously asks.

"We'll easily do 60 mph roadside with an average of 45 cross country, and 67.5 is the max I've seen her pushed with the governor on," he replies, "Past that...not even dust could withstand the stress, mind you she still weighs 70 tons."

"60 huh?" Malarky whistled.

"Yep, especially for her size, but it's no trouble," Kowalski laughs.

"You don't drag race in this do you?" jokes Malarkey.

"No, he built his Chevelle for that," Streicher taunts. "The amount of time you spent on that car I swear. I'm honestly surprised ever even sleep, whenever you weren't working on the Abrams, you were in the garage building that thing."

"She's a beautiful car SGT!" he argued back.

"Whether it's a beautiful are or not doesn't make up for the amount of time and money you spent just so you could take it out drifting in the streets!" Streicher counters.

"Okay children, I think it's time to stop, we're pulling up on the site," Anderson interjected, "And Kowalski, no. Do not start drifting in this tank!"

"I wasn't going to sir!" he protests.

"I know for a fact you had that look!" Anderson cries back, "I don't need a near death experience right before we meet with the General."

Kowalski rolls his eyes and replies "Got it sir."

Malarkey curiously inquires "Hey Nate, you at least come up with a name for this tank yet?"

"No, nothing has come to mind yet," he answers, "The tank line though, I was thinking, the Liberator."

"Wow, how subtle," Malarkey shrugs it off.

"You're seriously bringing up subtly as an argument against me," Kowalski laughs, "Look at the world we're in, most of the population doesn't even understand the concept of subtlty."

"And you do?!" Malarkey snaps.

"Both of you shutup," Streicher ordered in a bored tone cutting them off before an arguement could erupt.

Streicher then spots something out in the distance, he narrows his eyes and squints into the gun sight.

"Wait...what is that?" he murmurs. Streicher rubs his eyes before looks back into the sight. "Sir you got this?"

Anderson piers through his periscope and sees a whole other group gathered around a paladin that was currently parked in what was supposed to their parking spot.

"I thought we had the field today?" Kowalski's inquired.

"We do," Anderson narrows his eyes at the prototype mech. "Kowalski don't say anything, let me do the talking."

The attention of the crowd is drawn as the tank parks itself across from the paladin. As the crew exited the tank, they are greeted by a small party led by General Ironwood themselves.

Anderson approaches the party and anounces to his team "Group, attention!"

The four snaps to attention and saltutes.

Anderson greets "Good morning sir."

Ironwood salutes back and says "At ease."

The team lowers their arms to their sides and move to parade rest.

"Lieutenant, you're probably confused at what's happening at the moment and I can alreayd see you have a pile of questions ready."

"Yes sir," Anderson simply answers.

The Ironwood and Jacques share a glance, "Something's come up," Ironwood starts.

"Looks like a little more than something," Kowalski quietly mouths to himself.

Iornwood requests "If we could have a word Lieutenant."

Anderson snaps to attention, performs and about-face, looks to his team and says "Streicher, have the men wait by the tank."

"Yes sir."

They salute, and Anderson walks away leaving Streicher in charge.

The three walk off leaving others to tend to the tank. Ocel, Winter, Penny, and a man in a lab coat approach them.

"Salutations!" Penny greets cheerfully.

"Hi Penny," Kowalski greets. "What are you doing here?"

"My father was invited to this Weapons test Friend Nathaniel!" she chirps, "There is a new system scheduled for today and anytime there's a new innovation in technology, he is always there to see it! Speaking of which, Friend Nathaniel, this is my father." She gently pulls along the elderly man in a lab coat. "Father Professor Geppetto Polendina."

"Please to meet you sir," Kowalski greets accepting his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine," he then takes a look at the tank, "Why don't you tell me about your machine?"

"Uhh sir, it's not my…." Kowalski gets cut off.

"Son, I have been working for a long time," he comments, "I have learned quite a bit from my time. One thing I have learned is how to identify the chief architect of their work, and please, as one crafter to another, call Geppetto." He smiles and continues, "Tell me about her, what exactly is she?"

"Well…." Kowalski nervously shuffled, "We call it a tank."

"A storage device for water?" asks Penny curiously, "Or the...video game character designed to absorb the most large amounts of damage?"

"The second one," he replies.

"And...what do you do with these...tanks?" Penny inquires curiously, cutely placing her hand on under her chin, Geppetto chuckling at her daughters antics.

"Like heavy calvary," Kowalski replies simply.

Geppetto's eyes widen in realization.

"A heavily armored, fast moving machine, designed to spearpoint an advance," Geppetto sumarizes, he smiles warmly.

"That's right sir," Kowalski nods.

"Not on its own no doubt," he quickly rambles, "One simply cannot expect to fight and win a battle without support from infantry, artillery, aircraft, and so on. But to just simply be used to push an advance to gain ground while the infantry move to occupy the gained territory…..Why you're looking at a rather fast campaign of complete territorial dominance. A...lighting war, quite efficient." His eyebrows lift as he thought about it, "Tank," he repeated, "It is quite an unassuming name," he commented, "Most people when naming these things tend to be bombastic, and er, boisterous, but here you are, naming it such a rather simple name that states its purpose, it's straightforward, uncomplicated."

"It's also a complete waste of money," a voice firmly states.

"Can we help you?" Kowalski asked, irritated by the man's comment.

"This is Viridian Grey," Anderson introduced, "He's the CEO of Grey Industries."

He was a medium height, shrewd, weasley looking businessman and with a fake smile, he says "Charmed I'm sure."

Not once making eye contact with any of the team.

"His company are one of the largest weapons producers in all of Atlas," Jacques informed.

"I thought you were?" Kowalski raises an eyebrow.

"We're the contract holders." he replies, "Any company that wants to develop anything usually has to go through me, so most find it easier to work alongside me and as an added benefit, they get to use my resources to further their research and fudning."

The man walked forward and narrowed his eyes as he looked at the tank in disgust, "Such a waste of valuable resources on something so brutish and uncivilized, and unproven. How on Remnant is something as simple as a tracked vehicle with one giant gun going to combat Grimm?" he asks, "Whereas the mechs in current use have multiple functions making them all very capable of talking multiple targets in many different fields unsupported."

"You seem to be under the impression that it's good to have your entire military consisting of multi-rolled vehicles as a good thing and not a detriment. While they can do many different jobs, they also fail to excel in ANY of them," Kowalski retorts, "Whereas my tanks are designed with Joint Combat Operations in mind. It's never meant to work alone, which I remind you is one of the main causes of casualties for most of your mechs and hunstman teams!" He then smirks, "Then there's this other detail, my tanks are also cheaper and less maintenance heavy than what the graphs say about your paladins."

"But they also cost more time and resources to train to operate and maintain, not to add the costs of those parts! Grey counters sharply, "My paladins can be operated either remotely or with a single pilot, your fuel guzzlers not only go through ammunition and fuel faster than a Faunus on social welfare, but they also require a four man crew in order to even operate! We live in a world where every life matters and we quite frankly can't afford to lose an entire huntsman team on top of millions of lien worth per vehicle lost!"

He started getting a little more heated as he continued.

"You are nothing but a bunch of undisciplined, inexperienced children playing soldier!" he chides, "My Paladins are founded upon decades of fighting Grimm and not off a concept that has yet to prove its usefulness. Your theoretical doctrine may work on paper, but in reality is different from concept! Need I remind we are fighting an enemy that loves to swarm their targets? What good is a group of tracked armor destroyers when they can just over run your position with sheer numbers?"

Gray slowly composes himself, reaches into his coat and pulls out a signed contract.

"Your methods are controversial and unproven simply put, and they are being put into question if your project is worth the money spent on it. Quite frankly, your credentials are being place under strict scrutiny as well as your enitre project. As authorized from the Atlas senate," he read off, "Today's test has been assigned for the Main Battle Tank for one final progress and performance for our sponsors before public reveal. Read it over if you'd like, I assure you that it has all the necessary signatures."

Kowalski looks at it, then looks over to Anderson, Jaques, and Ironwood, "Are you serious."

"Everything Mr. Gray has said has been founded on how we've been fighting. Your new doctrine highlights a much more offensive approach and that is making the council very concerned. We agree with you that the current war is at a stalemate with a line that is barely moving, but the council believes the current defensive strategy we're using is successful and winning. The council has agreed to allow you to continue testing on your vehicle," Ironwood then replies regretfully, "But on one condition, for this test, you must perform a combat test against the Paladin which is about to go into production."

"Combat test?" asks Kowalski.

"Standard performance test with the two vehicles pitted against each other," explained Ironwood, "Each vehicle will be given a standard combat loadout, the test will be determined by which vehicle can move, find, engage, and destroy all enemy positions and vehicles more effectively within the time allotted. The ROE is all units inside the designated area are hostile and the terrain is of course rolling hills. As you know, you've already done multiple performance tests against each other, this will be the first time the two of these vehicles will be tested against each other in this manner."

"If we win, our tanks go into production, if we lose, the project gets scrapped right?" Kowalski finishes.

"That is correct," he nods, "Both of your projects are high profile contracts, you guys have a lot over money riding on you, and just about as much money riding against you. There's also more riding on this than just a simple concept, if you lose, all you will do is give the council self validation that everything is alright. We all how woefully unprepared the kingdoms are for when war breaks out between them, and it will breakout, and when it does, the Grimm will be close to follow. you aren't going to change anyone's minds, Make it count, do whatever you need to do to get battle ready, you're up first. "

The general then makes his way back to the observers leaving the group to themselves. All that remained was Mr. Gray who walked to Anderson.

"Though I may be your competitor and I meant what I had said," he starts, he narrows his eyes and lets out a sigh, "I have also been in this game for a long time, what I see as perhaps rash and half thought out, I must acknowledge the raw talent and knowledge you and your team posseses."

"What are you suggesting sir?" Anderson asks suspiciously.

"I am merely suggesting, that after your project fails…."

'Really now,' thought Kowalski.

"I am offering for you and your team to come work for my company. Your skills are better spent working on practical projects rather than science fiction," he finishes.

Anderson smiled politely saying "Thank you for the offer Mr. Grey."

He nods and then walks away back to the observer area. As he walked away, Anderson's smile quickly lowers into a grimace.

When the team was sure he was out of earshot, Kowalski angrily mutters "Arrogant prick."

* * *

"Is there any real point in comparing these two in combat?" whispers Malarkey.

"It'll give the Lt. an idea of how our tank will perform in combat on this planet," Kowalski whispers back.

"We're fighting Grimm though, aren't suppose to be on the same side?" Malarkey protests.

"We are," Kowalski replies, "You and I both know though, that its never going to be just fighting Grimm, especially with our line of work. There's no other reason why we are out here."

The gears in Malarkey's brains start turning, "So you think it was the General who set this up and not Grey."

"Think about it," Kowalski replies, "The scematics for the Paladin were stolen three weeks before we had just arrived, then we apear on the doorstep of one of the most influential people on the planet along with an extremely heavily armored vehicle capable of taking an immense amount of punishment and whose sole point of creation, was to storm and take fortified positions, hold them against infantry and other armored vehicles alike, and has also had over one hundred years of technolo-"

"Alright!" Malarky snaps, cutting him off, "I get it. Queen of Battle Ho'ah!" he snorts jokingly.

Kowalski rolls his eyes at the joke. The two had just about finished their presentation when the other two memebrs of their team walked up.

"Tell me exactly what we're up against," Anderson turns to Kowalski and Malarkey, the egineering and weapons experts respectively.

"Good or bad news first?" asks Kowalski.

"You know how it works," Anderson turns to them fully, "Veggies come first."

"Grey Industries' Paladin-290," Kowalski begins.

"On paper, you're looking at the ideal Infantry Fighting Vehicle," Malarkey quickly lists off the specifications "It's armaments reflect that. The Paladin is equipped with two arm-mounted energy canons, ballistics tests put the power resembling that of a 20mm cannon, it's rate of fire is set at 450 rounds per minute, same as 40mm bofors. Next, it has a heavier shoulder mounted double barrel energy cannon, damage output is that of a German 88mm anti-tank gun, rate of fire time is about the same. Finally, on its back," Malarkey points at the Paladin being serviced. "See that backpack looking thing?"

Anderson nods.

"Those are rocket pods, small, homing, high explosive, anti-personnel warheads," Malarkey finishes, "Like I said, it would be perfect for fighting infantry and taking on Grimm give or take a few issues, especially in close quarters, the thing is built with close quarter combat in mind and packs quite a bit of force behind its punch."

"How strong?" asks Anderson.

"Easily be able to go through concrete like a wrecking ball," Malarkey replies, "Especially if it charges and collided with the structure at full force."

Anderson raises his eyebrows in surprise and concern.

"That strong huh?" Streicher murmurs.

"And here's the work up on the armor," Kowalski pulls out a packet, "It's armor is a combination steel and some kind of ceramic polymer." Kowalski holds up a piece, "The armor scheme is placed with a steel frame as the base, a sort of titanium box for the pilot, a layer of this polymer as the main body, and finally reinforced steel plates over vital areas. The overall thickness is brought up to 2.5 inches of polymer plating and 1 inch of RHA steel on the legs, 1.5 inches of ploymer plating and 3 inches of RHA steel on the upper chest area, and finally 2.5 inches of ploymer plating everywhere else. The polymer is a sort of ceramic carbon mix and it makes up the bulk of the armor. Testing shows the ceramic polymer to be nowhere near as tough as the chobaum on the Abrams, but it's a lot lighter, it's literally a walking Tiger tank with half the weight. In fact, because of the armor, the Paladin is lighter, quicker, and more agile than our tanks. It's around the same speed road side capable of a sustained speed of 60 mph, but its acceleration is quite a bit faster than the Abrams."

The two stand ready for Anderson's final input. He breaks out of his deep thought and looks right back.

"What's for dessert?" he calmly asks.

Malarkey then shrugs and says "That's the thing, everything we've told you has only been written on paper, that's where our numbers got more speculative. I mean, we think it's a tough vehicle no doubt, but gaging its actual strength is tricky because, yeah it can punch concrete, but I honestly have no idea how they build shit on this planet."

He pulls out another large packet of papers representing his notes, "What it says it can do on paper doesn't always translate to how well it performs in real life."

Anderson and Streicher share a glance before Anderson asks, "How different are we talking about?"

Kowalski flips to a page and hands it to the two.

"The standard tensile strength of steel rebar which is used for construction in our world ranges from 60 to 80,000 psi."

Anderson picks up the packet and reads along. He turns to Streicher and hands it to him while Kowalski continues.

"If my math is correct, and it usually is," Kowalski motions with his pen back at the model mech, "It should be capable of producing enough force to snap rebar, but this is only on paper, I need this in practice." Kowalski takes the packet back.

"I mean, you've seen the shit they do and get away with here sir," Malarkey comments, "Dust lets them get away with a lot of things for example, they tend built structures at the cost of their structural integrity due to the abilities of dust. The only way we'd know for sure is if we built our own reinforced concrete pillar and see if the Paladin can destroy it without destroying itself."

"That added by the fact rebar tends to be woven into a mesh before being cast into concrete," Kowalski adds without looking up from his laptop. "Anyway here," he quickly pulls up a page and shows it to the group, "Here's arguably one of the greatest flaws of the Paladin. It's oversized, it's clearly too tall for average tunnel clearances, and its overall weight is set at 34 tons empty. As I said, the ceramic polymer they use is light, it's like 30% the weight of RHA steel for the equivalent protection allowing them to use more of it. It may be tough, but it also falls under the same issues that our ceramic armor does and that is performs incredibly poorly against sustained fire, they tried to compensate for that by adding steel to vital areas but you can only compensate for so much before it becomes too much for the vehicle to handle. A light-infantry platoon could quite easily devastate the thing if they can land hits with either their AT-4s, or LAWs if they're marines, that's if they get the first shots off of course."

Kowalski clicks on a setting and the Paladin model on the computer is highlighted with several colors.

"As you can see," he moves the mouse cursor over the model, "They clearly knew about the issue and they tried to mitigate it by applying steel to certain hard points such as the cockpit and legs. It still leaves quite a bit of exposed areas though, such as the midesection and the arms, the separation of the joints provides mobility to the vehicle but at the sacrifice of making the spots much more susceptible to gunfire, I guess the pilots are trained to cover those areas in some way during combat."

"Finally the weaponry," Malarkey moves to the last file, "It's alright, it does its job against Grimm and infantry, but that's kinda where it ends. It's quite obvious that the militaries on this planet don't know how to fight people that well since this mech seems to lack some real anti-personnel capabilities such as machine guns, missile protection systems, etc. These cannons under perform in range and armor penetration for guns of their size, the missiles, even though they are fire-and-forget, they are both rather slow, short ranged, and can be inaccurate up to greater distances, which explains why there are fired in vollies. It seems that even though the sensors on the Paladin are capable of tracking targets with amazing precision, the guns can't exactly target them as accurately. Be careful of its heavy gun though, if the German 88s are anything to go off of, that gun would be fully capable of disabling us from a shot in our back. It's imperative we don't let the Paladin flank us. I clearly don't have to tell you what happens if it gets into punching range with a target."

"We have the range and first strike advantage sir," Kowalski replies, "The greater maximum effective range of our guns and our lower profile makes it easier for us to engage the target without ever being spotted. As long as we can keep the thing at a distance of at least a thousand meters, we'll be fine. We gotta be quick though, because that thing will cross the distance very quickly. Anyway, that wraps up our presentaion on how the Abrams stacks up against the Paladin in combat."

Anderson turns to Ironwood and nods. Ironwood nods back and turns to his group. A few moments later, a small party moved for the Paladin while the rest make way for the observation post.

Anderson turns back to his team, "Alright, mount up, we're Oscar Mike!"

From there the four man crew raced to their positions and swiftly performed their routine equipment checks. Within a few moments, they were on the road again approaching the testing course.

* * *

An ancient creature, a Geist had been awakened and it went off, traveling across the terrain of the Atlas valley. The humans were at it again, testing their weapons. Nothing out of the ordinary, but for some reason this one felt different. This Geist felt curious enough that the humans deserved some observations, so off he went. Whatever information it gathered would be relayed back to its majesty. When it arrived at the human base, it saw mainly to objects. Weapons testing was nothing special, especially from this particular group of humans and the first weapon it saw matched its usual observations. It was another humanoid shaped machine with guns mounted on the arms. It had followed the majority of design patterns of previous weapons and thus carried the same pros and cons. The Geist began to question why it felt the need to observe the humans, it was considering leaving until he heard a noise. It started off as a whine which quickly grew louder until it was cut out by a loud, steady roar. The Geist watched as an almost alien looking new machine rolled out from behind a hill and drove across hills. The machine was a woodland painted box with a cannon larger than any seen before mounted on top. The cannon was placed on a turret and would move separately from the chassis as it scanned around. It found the new machine design to be much more conservative compared to the traditionals which came off as complicated and egotistical. Some of the things the new vehicle had shown seemed somewhat ingenious, such as the vehicle's low profile to the ground, the Geist actually lost sight of it a few times as it passed through the hills. Of course as any being with intelligence knows, there's a fine line between functionality and cosmetic appeal. There is really only one way to know for sure. When the vehicle disappears down range, the Geist averts its attention to the idle Paladin, time to make its move.

* * *

Anderson eyes the computer cautiously as it rhythmically beeped.

"What's up?" asks Streicher.

"There's something on the MAV feed," he replies not taking his eyes off the screen. "There's an object coming from the south."

Streicher turns to his own console and his eyes widened at what he sees.

"Whatever it is, it's coming fast," he comments seriously, he then on instinct turns to his controls and activates the laser range finder and attempts to locate the object. After a few moments, he grimaces and says "I got nothing on visuals."

Anderson grabs the phone set and radios back to the test group.

"Overlord, Overlord, this is Grim Sky over?"

" _Grim Sky this is Overlord, go ahead."_

"We spotted an unknown contanct on the MAV feed, the MAV scanners are trackking the unknown contact sixteen klicks south of your position," Anderson reports, "Current velocity is approximately 161 km/h over."

" _Uh...roger that Grim Sky we are currently tracking the unknown as well, over."_

"Overlord, I'm reading that the object is currently airborne," Anderson reported, "Are there any aerial training missions scheduled for today, over?"

" _...Negative Grim Sky, Overlord is not tracking any training missions, over."_

Anderson feels a shiver of dread as the object continued its path towards the sight.

"Overlord, this is Grim Sky, I think we might have a situation, we are returning to base, out."

Anderson puts back the phone and then activated his crew radio, "Kowalski turn us around."

"Yes sir."

With a couple quick lever pulls, the tank pulls a 180 degree turn and begins the journey back to base.

"Malarkey load sabot," he orders.

"Loading!" Malarky responds, and followed five seconds later with "Up!"

Malarkey then asks Streicher "You don't think it's Grimm do you?"

"Out this far into human territory?" Streicher ponders, "Not likely, but I have been wrong before." Streicher replied honestly, "Either way, I've got a bad feeling about this."

* * *

It had been approximately five minutes since the object was spotted and the entire camp was frantic. Troops were quickly shutting down equipment, locking them up, and the security detail were running weapons checks. Whatever was coming had everyone concerned, though no one outright said it.

Winter turns to Ironwood and urgently says "Sir we have a situation!"

"Alright!" Ironwood barks, "SGT, I want all non-military personnel on that bullhead out of here now!"

"Dad!" Weiss cries, "Grant and his team are still out there!"

"General!" Jacques protested.

"Mr. Schnee I need you on that bird!"

"I really…."

Ironwood cuts him off saying "This is not up for discussion!" He leans closer to his longtime friend "Jacques, I know you are close to those soldiers, but you are far too valuable to be risked for just four soldiers and a prototype, I'll do everything in my power to bring those four home alive, but you cannot stay here. Do I make myself clear?"

Jacques takes a moment to access his options, before sighing in defeat, Ironwood was right.

He says his head slightly before straightening it and saying "Alright, James. No matter what, just bring them home."

"Wait General!" Mr. Grey shouts as he runs up to the General. "You'll need this." He shoves a flash drive into his hands, "This is all the relevant data I have on the Paladin's operation!"

"Thank you Mr. Grey," he accepted gratefully.

"I hope this is enough to offset what is about to happen."

"We'll see how the Paladin performs and then we'll let the council decide!" Ironwood replies, "Now go!"

The last person climbs onto the bullhead before it takes off.

"We're full!" the crewman shouts and he closes the door and the aircraft lifts off.

"Wait!" Professor Polendina shouts as he realizes that someone was missing. "Where's Penny?!" he cries frantically as everyone looks for the girl.

* * *

"Penny?!" Winter cries incredulously.

Penny snaps to attention at the irate Specialist.

"What in Oum's green Remnant are you doing here?!" she shrieks. Penny stood as Winter continued on, "You were supposed to be on that bullhead, do you have any idea of the risk you are at just by being out here?! What would the Professor think if he found out?!"

"Ma'am, I am standing my post and serving my duty as a soldier of Atlas!" she responded defiantly, "As I believe I am perfectly justified in my actions, four of my best friends are out there and were they in my position, they would do the same for me!"

Winter facepalms herself with a resounding slap as the irritably cries, "But you aren't a soldier Penny! You're a huntress in training, and you're the daughter of an incredibly important person, a person who puts my entire career as well as everyon incharge of me into jeoperdy were something to happen to you! It doesn't matter what you believe! Also, Anderson and his team are trained soldiers whereas you're not, they can take care of themselves and WERE they aware of your decision, they would 100% be on my side, especially NATE!"

She then grabs Penny's wrist and drags her along to Ironwood.

"Unbelievable," Winter grumbles, "Of all the traits you could have picked up from them, you had to copy Nate's rashness!"

"Ma'am, my sensors indicate that their is one a 50% chance of survival for Friend Nathaniel and his team, and though I am only a huntress in training, I have many other features programmed in order to assist my allies as stated by my current directives!" Penny protested while getting dragged.

"Yeah, and as of right now, you're current directive is to stay put and stay out of trouble," Winter counters while entering the office and sitting her down on a chair.

"But Ma'am-"

"Active now!" Winter firmly stated.

Penny frowns and sinks into the chair sadly replieng "Acknowledged ma'am."

Winter then walks up to the General who was being shown something be Ocel.

"And you're sure the information is accurate doctor?" Ironwood asks Ocel.

"I'm positive General," he replies, "Everything down to how to operate it."

"Alright, close this down and gather your gear, I want you on the next bird out," said Ironwood.

Ocel nods, logs off the terminal, picks up his files, and walks away.

Winter feels a chill go down her spine, she turns and walks to the window and stares at the tree line. That was when she saw it, an elder Geist in its spectral form hovering overhead, it hovers for a moment before it flies for the Paladin.

"Incoming!" a worker shouted.

Someone screamed urgently at one of the engineers working on the Paladin "Jade get off of there!"

The engineer managed to jump off right as the Geist enveloped the mech. She found herself on the floor and looked back up at the Paladin. The mech's red eyes flickered on and off as the engineer fearfully crawls away. The Paladin's power on and remains idle as Atlas soldiers, AK-200s, and trucks surround it. The Paladin let out a mechanical hum as the dust engines power on.

"Hold your fire! Stand by to engage!" the lead soldier barks.

The Geist moves the Paladin from "STANDBY" to "START" and the mech lets out a little rumble. Suddenly the mech's limbs begin to move as the mech attempts to break from its tie downs. All it took was one shaky soldier firing a round before the rest opened up. First his fellow soldiers, then followed the AK-200s with short controlled bursts, then finally with the gun trucks firing full auto from their machine guns at the now active mech.

"My Oum," Winter murmurs.

The soldiers watch helplessly as their rounds bounce off the Paladin's armor. The Paladin walks forward unfazed, fires the heavy cannon into the crowd before him before it fires a barrage of its arm cannons making short work of the soldiers and robots. In one final move, the Paladin fires a volley of rockets around it wiping out what was left of the security detail. The Paladin then takes aim with the heavy gun and blows up the control tower. The Paladin now practically had free rein to attack the compound unopposed.

A soldier came running up to the party and cried "Ma'am our positions over run and we are falling back! What are your orders?!"

Winter walks forward and watches the chaos around her, behind the building she could see the Paladin firing into the hangers, and before her was a crowd of panicked troops.

"Professor," she turns to the General who asks Ocel, "The mech, how do I kill it?"

"It's heavy assault mech General," he replies, "Since it's design to counter Grimm in CQC, it's armor will shrug most small arms."

"Where are the heavy weapons?" Ironwood asks the CPT.

"Most of them were wiped out in the initial attack and the rest we are unable to get to sir!" the CPT reports.

"What about reinforcements?" Ironwood asks, "Are they coming?"

"We managed to get a message out before the mech took down our main antenna, it'll take time!" he replies. "As of now we are cut off from HQ."

"Professor can we outrun it?" he asks.

Ocel regrettably shakes his head, "No General."

"Corporal!" Winter turns to a soldier, "Take the remaining VIPs into the shelter below."

"Yes ma'am!"

"Ma'am," the radio operator shouts, "I've got the Sky!"

Winter walks over and traps the handset.

"This is Winter."

" _Winter!"_ Anderson shouts, _"We have a plan on taking that thing out but we need your help! The Sky's three klicks away from our effective weapons range, but our line of sight is blocked."_

"What do you need me to do?" she asks simply.

" _Talk to Alan, he'll fill you in, until then I need you to track that thing's movement, Anderson out!"_

"CPT!" she barks.

"Ma'am!" he snaps to attention.

"Help is on the way, but we need to buy time until they arrive," she explained, "I need you to regroup whatever men you have left and try to limit the mech's movement."

"Yes ma'am," he then rounds up his platoon and they run off as the radio operator consolidates a rendezvous point for them. Winter motions at the corporal and the soldier takes a team and escorts the General and the remaining main party into the bunker.

Winter quickly noticed that someone wasn't leaving with the group, instead the person was trailing her.

"Miss Poledina, what do you think you are doing?" Winter ask sternly.

"I am coming with you ma'am!" she states firmly.

"Didn't we establish why that isn't a good idea already?" Winter annoyingly groans. Before Penny could respond, Winter cuts her off crying "This isn't up for discussion, get back into that bunker!"

Before they could leave, Ocel cries "Wait!"

He runs up to Winter with a small duffel and a box shaped object.

"You'll need this," he hands her the binocular like box. "This is a SOFLAM, it's a smaller, lighter, and more rugged laser designator for advanced infantry and hunstmen teams! Have you ever used as laser target designator before?"

Winter shook her head much to Ocel's dismay.

"I have."

The two turn and stare at Penny blankly.

Before Winter could say "No," Ocel cuts her off saying "This isn't something that I can teach you right off the bat, Penny has to be the one to set it up!"

Winter looks between Ocel to the now pleading Penny.

Winter sighs and says "Fine."

Ocel hands the SOFLAM to her saying "I need you set this up and target the laser at the Paladin, it'll give the data necessary for a firing solution and feed directly into the Sky's Fire-Control-System!" He then hands the duffel bag also adding "The tripod and telescope are here. Get to somewhere to set this up, preferably a place with higher elevation."

"The control tower?" Winter suggests.

Ocel looks at the blown out tower and nods.

"Perfect, get there, don't worry about range, the laser can target up to over 10 km," He then turns to Winter "Make sure she gets there, I'll meet you there!"

Before he could leave, Winter grabs his wrists and asks "Wait why are you going?"

"I'm the only one they taught the radio authentication and the correct designations to," he replies, "We were planning on creating a class for the General after our project got greenlit."

Winter gapes at him, she just can't believe the situation she has found herself in.

"We don't have time to argue, get to the tower!"

Ocel then runs back into the building to grab the rest of his equipment.

Winter curses to herself at the position she has found herself in.

She looks down for a moment, dons a determined face and looks up.

She places her hand to her ear and says "Capatan, this is Specialist Schnee, over?"

 _"Ma'am we read you loud and clear,"_ he responds. _"We managed to regroup and are currently standing at company strength. We're awaiting orders ma'am."_

"Captain we have a plan to take out the Paladin, but it puts you and our men at serious risk, I'll be straight with you, you may not make it out," she says honestly.

A moment of silence lapse before he responds "What needs to be done ma'am?"

"I need you to lure it into the courtyard in front of the control tower and keep it there while my team plants a laser on it, over?"

"We'll get it done ma'am, Bravo Company out," with that he cuts off the radio.

Winter turns to Penny, looks her directly into her eyes and sternly states, "Stay behind me at all times, do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am," she nods.

Without another word, the pair take off running through the compound. Meanwhile personnel ran around them, some taking pot shots at the mech while others were trying to either reach their stations or evacuate. They came up onto the main parking lot and the main pathway to the tower was in view at the otherside. Winter lets out a gasp as she sees the mech's silhouette from around the corner. She slips behind the wall and pulls Penny along with her as a squad of engineers run past them.

"Wait!" she cries holding her hand out.

One of them turns and looks at her as the mech fires into the parked cars launching several of them into the air, one of them landing on top of the unfortunate group.

"Shit!" Winter curses.

"Winter, Penny!" a voice shouts, the pair watched as Ocel runs up to them carrying more equipment.

"Main pathway is blocked!" Winter shouts and points at the Paladin.

"Follow me, we'll cut through the motor-pool!" Ocel shouts back and leads them in the opposite direction.

When the three arrived at the motor pool with the still intact trucks, Winter points at the gate another gate with the tower up ahead to the left. The Paladin then blows through the gaurds post to their right.

"Go, go, go!" she bellows, she then grabs her radio and say "CPT! We're moving through the motorpool, meet us at the-OH!"

She collapses onto the ground right as the Paladin's foot stomps behind her.

"WOAH!" she screams grabbing sword before the Paladin could crush it.

"Winter!" Penny screams fearfully as she and Ocel duck down by the tractors.

The Paladin finally notices Winter and stares down directly at her, the Paladin turns its heavy cannon away from the building it was aiming at and instead points it at Winter instead.

"What the?" Winter curses as she jumps up and scrambles to the tractors.

Before the Paladin could fire, Ocel pulls out his slung grenade launcher, turns off the safety and fires an illumination round directly into the Paladin's face blinding it. Penny grabs Winter as she reaches the tractors.

"Alright let's go!" Winter roars and the three get up.

Ocel fires another round at the mech right as it recovered from the previous round.

"Ma'am!" the captain screams at the gate.

His men run past him to engage the Paladin drawing its attention.

"Cover the rear!" he roars, "Go, cover the rear, take cover!"

"Winter," Ocel cries. "I need you to immobilize it!"

"What?" she cries back.

"The cannon will lob a round at whatever the laser is pointed at, but it won't matter if the target moves away from it!" he shouts. "You gotta keep it from moving."

Winter takes a moment to process this new information quickly forming a plan.

Another explosion goes off and she nods her head, "Alright go, radio me when you get there!"

The two run off for the tower while Winter runs back into the motor pool with the captain.

"Cover fire!" the captain shouted as he and Winter run to their positions.

Winter ducks down back at the tractors and pulls out the radio set Ocel handed to her.

 _At the Tower_

Penny scrambles as she sets up the SOFLAM and aims it at the Paladin. Ocel pulls out the radio pack from his bag and switches it on.

"Winter we're in position," he then waves at her.

"I see you," she answers back.

"Adams break right!" a soldier screams as a rocket hits the building behind him sending debris everywhere.

A few more soldiers run off in said direction, one of them firing a few grenades at the mech. A few moments passed as the soldiers scrambled for cover and tried their best to return fire at the mech until Winter finally hears the words she's been waiting for.

" _Winter, the Sky is in position, hit it now!"_

"Illumination rounds now!" the captain barks.

The few soldiers equipped with grenade launchers fire off at the Paladin blinding it again and Winter activates her ice glyph locking the mech in place. All the fire ceased as the Paladin was trapped at the moment.

" _Lasing the target!"_ Penny reports.

* * *

"Sir, firing solution received," Anderson barks. "Plotting target."

Streicher moves the controller and responds "Target locked!"

"FIRE!"

"On the way!" Streicher stomps down on the trigger press.

* * *

The cannon blast was as loud as a thunder clap and could be heard throughout the valley, it shook the men as they were unprepared for it. It was at that moment, the ice dust finally gave out and the Paladin broke free with its guns ready. It then paused as a strange whistling noise filled the air. It lasted very briefly, barely three seconds and it seemed to be getting louder. The Paladin turns to the source of the noise and looked up just in time to see a silver dart before it hit. The result was devastating as the nine kilogram depleted uranium dart slammed into the mech's skinny midsection at 1600 m/s splitting it in two. Everyone watched with guns at the ready as the lights on the mech flickered died.

"Good effect on target," Ocel reported.

" _Roger that, this is the Grim Sky RTB, out."_

Winter slowly got off her radio, turns to the remaining men and announces, "Kill confirmed."

At that, the crowd explodes into cheers. In all the comotion, no one noticed that the geist had slipped away. It was satisfied with what it had found and felt her majesty would be pleased. Back in the bunker, all the technicians were cheering as well, all except for General Ironwood who stood there in quiet contemplation.

"What was the distance of that shot?" he asks an analyst.

The analyst quickly glances at her terminal before replying "4.7 kms sir."

The General gives a nod and the analyst turns away. He lets out a soft sigh as he glanced at projected casualty count, out of five hundred personnel present, they had lost a little under three hundred, it would have been more had it not been for the Abrams.

"Sir, reinforcements have arrived," the analyst reported.

He nods and says "Evacuate the wounded and get everyone back home for debrief."

This was not going to go well with the public.

* * *

"4.7 klicks," Streicher whistlers, he turns to Kowalski and asks "What was the record back home?"

"5.1 in 1991 with a British Challenger," Kowalski replies.

Malarky huffs, "Not bad SGT."

"So how are we going to deal with the depleted uranium situation or rather, the lack thereof," inquires Malarky, "Those dust centrifuges we repurposed are barely getting the job done and we're gonig to need alot more if we're gonig to be mass producing our rounds and armor."

"Well, we can compensate by using tungsten carbide for the sabots instead, it perform like the DU rounds, but it'll be cheeper, " Kowalski nonchalantly replies, "Clearly we're going to have to build our own centrifuges and tell the public we're working on a new type of reactor."

Everyone's eyes widen and turn to him. He looks back perplexed at the sudden attention.

"What, we're not making weapons grade material," he explains, "We would need to either find a way to synthesize plutonium or enrinch uranium 235 to 80%. Both of those options would be ungodly expensive for us and I just don't think we could ever convince anyone why that price is worth it, and if they find out we are making warheads we'll be put out of buissness and chased out of civilization by spearpoint."

"But that option is on the table for you isn't it?" Malarky asks worriedly.

Kowalski wasn't sure how to answer that, it was a simple yes or no but he couldn't give a clear answer. Making nuclear warheads was a major crime back home and Kowalski was sure it was no different in this world. So instead he chose to remain silent on the topic for now, this was something he would have to debate with the team in much greater detail later.

Instead he just says "I'll get the General to pull the strings we need for the uranium and materials for the reactor we need. If not, I'll find a way to do it myself. Lets talk about this later sir, after we dela with all of this."

Anderson took one last glance at Kowalski before nodding "Alright, I'll leave you to it, just remember we want to actually win this war, and that is with the planet intact."

* * *

 **Name:** Kowalski, Nathaniel, J. **(Character profiles are still being edited, previous profiles are pending adjustments.)**

 **Rank/Pay Grade:** SPL: E-4

 **DOB:** 20-March-2365

 **Height:** 5'9"/1.75m

 **Weight:** 165lbs/75kg

 **Age:** 15

 **Appearance:** BF4 Engineer.

 **Loadout:** He is the teams engineer, he specializes in anti-armor, demolition, and on occasion vehicle maintenance.

 **Primary:** Akdal MKA 1919

Ammunition: 12 Gauge 00 Buck/ 12 Gauge Slug

Attachments: Aimpoint CompM4 M68CCO Red Dot Sight, Angled Foregrip, Dual-beam laser designator.

 **Secondary(1):** M4 Carl Gustav

Ammunition: 84x246 mm R

 **Secondary(3)** : FGM-148 Javelin

Ammunition: Tandem shaped-charge HEAT Warhead

 **Secondary (Carry option for both warheads):** FIM-92 Stinger

Ammunition: High Explosive Annular Blast Fragmentation

 **Tertiary:** CZ-75

Transformation: Breach Hammer- Hydraulic Cranked Hammer designed to breach armored steel doors up to 25 mm.

Ammunition: 9x19mm Parabellum

Attachments: Suppressor

 **Gadgets:**

C-4 Plastic Explosives

Semtex Grenade: contains RDX and PETN allowing it to stick to most surfaces.

Blowtorch

 **Semblance:** Vanguard

Abilities:

Charge: Sapper uses aura to augment speed and strength, and charges across the battlefield towards a target. This culminates in a powerful collision that sends unprotected enemies flying backward, inflicting massive damage.

Pull: Pull generates a mass-lowering field, which levitates enemies into the air and draws them closer to Sapper.

Slam: Lifts a target and slams them to the ground inflicting damage.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This is the longest chapter I have written for a story period, and it took me forever. The next chapter will align the official start of the series, I'll keep close to the original cannon, at least until Beacon falls, from then on, we'll see. I acknowledge the differences between the war doctrines of Atlas and the USA, so I personally feel comparing the Paladin to the Abrams isn't an accurate comparison. Both machines fill different roles in their military and I feel a straight up comparison is unfair to both parties, but it's really all that Atlas has and it's all I got to work with. Chances are with bureaucracy, the Paladin may end up actually going into production and actually see combat, but I don't think it'll be in the open battlefield, not with the Abrams. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'll come out with the next when I can, thanks for reading. I'll see you next time. Remember, Big Brother is watching...always.**


	12. The Rifleman's Creed

**Author's Note: I'm sorry that I haven't been updating for so long, I just really didn't feel like writing for the longest time. I got into the habit of being really lazy, so I'm going to get back into it now. I didn't want to take another month or however long it takes me to write without anything to show for it, so I typed this up relly quick. This teaser represents content still in work.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own RWBY.**

* * *

The Rifleman's Creed

Malarkey pulls into an empty parking space along the sidewalk and lets out a sigh, leans his head back on the headrest, and closes his eyes. It has been a hectic week at work with all the new projects as well as filling out the orders for existing production vehicles. On top of it all, he had to present four new armored vehicles to the Atlas military with another entering service after the tanks. To top it all off, it was literally a week before he and his friends would take off to attend Beacon to get their Huntsmen licenses. So now Malarky can expect Kowalski and him to manage the development and production of company projects on top of whatever extra work the school would throw at him. Anderson has told him earlier that he was working on getting them working wavers to take pressure off of them when the term began but Malarkey wasn't exactly holding his breath. So now here he sat, overworked and exhausted, this was the first bit of free time he had gotten in a long while. Malarkey's scroll emits a notification sound and he snaps his eyes open. He pulls his scroll out to look at the message, it reads that the new company commercial had just went live. He remembered the day this commercial was shot and how it featured the voices of each of the founding members. Since he had yet to watch it, he clicked on the link and opened the video.

* * *

 **The company logo flashes on screen arranged with "Prometheus" in bold white and "Arms Corp." in orange underneath with a flame coming off towards the right.**

 **[This is my rifle.]**

 **A soldier walks onto down the street with her squad, aiming her rifle down at any possible threats.**

 **[There are many like it, but this one is mine,]**

 **He rounds the street corner and walks into the camera. The screen blackens and a SWAT officer walks out from the blackened screen revealing the dark, claustrophobic building he was clearing.**

 **[My rifle is my best friend. It is my life.]**

 **The officer opens a door to the staircase and aims upward into the sunlight.**

 **[I must master it as I must master my life.]**

 **The scene cuts to a marine platoon patrolling the countryside.**

 **[My rifle without me is useless. Without my rifle I am useless.]**

 **The light fades out revealing a huntsman team sitting on some rocks in the forest with the leader's rifle resting on her lap.**

 **[I must fire my rifle true.]**

 **The video cuts to an army sniper team sitting on a roof with the rifle and telescope aimed down range.**

 **[I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me.]**

 **The huntsman team is seen running through the forest into a cloud of mist.**

 **[I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will….]**

 **The SWAT officer shines his flashlight as he rounds the corner closely following behind another officer with a shield.**

 **[My rifle and I know that what counts in this war is not the rounds we fire,]**

 **The sniper fires his rifle.**

 **[The noise of our bursts, Nor the smoke we make,]**

 **The soldier pull up a man-hole cover while another aims her rifle into it.**

 **[We know its the hits that count. We will hit….]**

 **The huntsman team emerge from the mist with their weapons drawn.**

 **[My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life.]**

 **The SWAT Officer raises a breaching shot-gun and shoots the door lock as another prepares to kick the door in.**

 **[Thus I will learn it as a brother.]**

 **The sniper's spotter patted him on the shoulder as the pair get up to leave.**

 **[I will learn it's weaknesses, it's strengths, it's sights, and its barrel.]**

 **The maine raises his arm halting the platoon as he scans the treeline.**

 **[I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage,]**

 **The huntsman team runs through the forest as it starts to rain.**

 **[As I will ever guard my arm,]**

 **The marine motions for his team to continue forward.**

 **[My leg,]**

 **The soldier runs up a set of steps on the sidewalk.**

 **[My eyes,]**

 **The sniper makes adjustments on his sniper scope.**

 **[And my heart against damage.]**

 **The SWAT officer is now at the truck adjusting the straps on his vest.**

 **[I will keep my rifle clean and ready.]**

 **The soldier is now back at base cleaning her rifle.**

 **[We will become part of each other. We will….]**

 **The sniper disassemblies his rifle and packs it up.**

 **[By Oum I swear this creed.]**

 **The huntsman is seen on a bullhead leaving the forest conversing with her team, the rifle is slung by her side.**

 **[My rifle and I are the defenders of my Kingdom.]**

 **The soldier meets up with her team outside the building in civillian clothing and they walk off together.**

 **[We are the masters of our enemy.]**

 **The marine takes on final look around the area before he follows his platoon down the road continuing on with the patrol.**

 **[We are the saviors of my life.]**

 **The SWAT officer arrives at his friend's door as his daughter runs up to him. He picks her up and kisses his wife on the cheek.**

 **[So be it, until victory is our's and there is no enemy, but peace!]**

 **The final shot is the sniper team as they climb back down the building and kick open the exit door bathing the screen in white. The screen then cuts transitions into a black screen with company logo again. The logo fades off and is replaced with the company motto, "We Protect What Protects You." The final words shown before the video ends reads "Created and Dedicated to the military, huntsmen, and all who have served."**

* * *

"That turned out better than I thought it would," Malarkey muses as he puts away his scroll.

Malarkey then takes a glance over across the street at the dust store which still had its lights on. He looks at his watch which read 8 PM as he debated whether or not he should enter the store. He had literally just gotten off of work and still had on his uniform, while it wasn't all that weird to see service members in Atlas, Malarkey also knew that Vale was not Atlas.

Malarkey lets out a soft sigh and mutters "Fuck it."

He opens the door and exists his car and locks it behind him. He puts on his patrol cap and walks to the store title "From Dusk Till Dawn." He opens the door alerting the old shop clerk. The clerk looks straight at him and eyes him curiously.

"Good evening," he greets politely.

"Evening Sir," Malarkey greets back as he takes off his PC and places it into one of his cargo pockets.

"How can I help you?" he asks.

Malarkey shrugs, "Do you have any magazines?"

"New shipments every week," he nodded and points behind him, "They're in the back."

"Thanks," he replies.

Malarkey glanced around at his magazine options he walked down the aisle, he read the titles off as he passed them while searching for the one he wanted.

" _Dust Off_ , _Future Weapons Today_ , _Huntsman Weekly_ , _Patriot's Cookbook_ , _Milsurp Review_ …." he stops at the ones he wanted and he picks them up. " _Today's Army_ , and _The Future Soldier_."

He picks up a copy of _Today's Army_ and looks at the cover. It was a hand drawn rolling landscape with six vehicles on the cover in an arrow formation and the Abrams was front and center leading the charge. Each vehicle represented a specific role played based off of Earth vehicles handpicked by the crew which included two American designs, two German, one Russian, and one Canadian. Malakrey's gaze lingers on the 155mm barrel on the SPH (Self-Propelled-Howitzer) concept art. He opens up the magazine to the article's page number, sees the title "War Thunder," and begins to read. At the same time, the store's door opens ringing the bell and alerting the store clerk. In walks a young girl wearing a black long-sleeved dress with a high collar and red trip on the sleeves, and a red hooded cloak.

"Hello," she smiled warmly.

"Hello Miss," the clerk asks. "Good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too, do you have the new _Milsurp Reviews_?" the girl asks.

The clerk lets out a whistle and replies "Those have been rather popular as of late, you might be able to find a few of the new issues."

"Thank you," she nods and walks to the back.

She walks past Malarkey who was still enraptured by the article he was currently reading. The girl glances around at the empty rack and looks through the others only to find either older issues are completely different magazines entirely.

"Darn it," she sighs.

It was then Malarkey's scroll started to vibrate snapping him back to reality. He picks it up and glanced at the caller ID said "Kowalski." It was then he finally noticed the young girl who was grumbling to herself as she stared at the new _Milsurp Review_ rack which was now empty. He looks at the magazines he was holding and shrugs, he places two of them back on the shelves and turns to the girl.

"Hey," he calls over.

"Hm?" she turns to face him and their eyes met.

'Silver huh?' Malarkey mused tom himself.

"Here," he raised his copy of the magazine.

She shook her head, "No, I'm sorry, I couldn't."

"It's fine," he waves it off, "I was planning on reading it but…." He shows her his vibrating scroll, "Someone says otherwise."

He hands her the magazine and walks off to the bathroom.

"Thank you!" the girl says to him and he just waves back before opening the door and walking in.

After the door closes behind him, he answers his scroll.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"EVAN WHAT THE FUCK?!" Kowalski screens making Malarkey wince and move his phone away from the receiver.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I'll try to get the next chapter out soon. My college classes are starting to pick up though, see you soon I hope.**


	13. Celtic

**Author's Note: New chapter guys.**

 **Beta-read by Justrandomguy**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Celtic

" _Long long we prayed, to hear the selkie song,_

 _And now we pray again that her song will never end,_

 _Dúlamán na binne buí, dúlamán Gaelach_

 _Dúlamán na farraige, be'fhearr a bhí in Éirinn._ "

Malarky sang quietly to himself as an attempt to entertain himself in his bored state, the way he saw it, it was either smoke a cigarette or sing. It was a quiet night, or at least as quiet as one would expect in a military camp. Malarkey lets out a soft sigh as he fully expected his shift on watch duty to be a rather dry one, he lets out a yawn as he checks his watch which read 2350 hours, or ten minutes to midnight. As a proud member of the E-4 Mafia, Malarkey was no stranger to shamming while on the job and had this been on any other occasion, he would have dozed off for a power nap a while ago. Of course, the valley they were in being an active warzone, perhaps the sham life could wait until his company was cycled back to base.

"Flash," a voice whispers behind him.

Malarkey turns to see Kowalski making his way over to him.

"Thunder,"he replies. He then watches patiently as Kowalski sits down next to him with the radio. "What the fuck took you?"

"The second helping of the jalapeno cheese from earlier finally took its effect," Kowalski grunts. "Seen anything?"

"Nope," Malarkey, "It's really dry. Just ten more minutes and I'll be passed out back at my rack."

"I hear that," Kowalkis chuckles as he leans back and lets out a groan.

"Remember that BBQ Winter took us to in Vale before we left for this?" Malarkey asks while recalling said time.

"You mean the one where I couldn't eat half the things there since they were all pork?" Kowalski scoffs as he packs a can of Dip.

"Oh right you're Jewish," Malarkey muses, "I forgot despite you going out of your way to remind us, and yet you eat cheeseburgers all the time."

"One, that is religious profiling and I resent it, so fuck you," Kowalski retorts, "Two, me being Jewish has nothing to do with why I don't eat pork. The fucking things live and eat in their own shit, and to top it all off, they don't even sweat, that's pretty fucking disgusting Evan." Kowalski then proceeds to stuff a wad of dip into his mouth.

Malakey rolls his eyes and mutters "Whatever."

Malarkey then sees something funny out the corner of his eye. He squints at it and for just a moment, he sees what could possibly be some dark figures creeping towards them in the moonlight. He grabs a pair of binoculars and switches the night mode on before looking through them.

"What is it?" Kowalski asks while powering on his own NVGs.

Malarkey lowers his binoculars and replies "I see two." He hands the binoculars to Kowalksi, "Straight ahead, five hundred meters, near the shrubs by the edge of the berm."

Kowalski peers through them, "Yeah I saw them, one of their heads just popped down."

He hands the binoculars back before picking up the radio set.

"Black Dragon X-ray, this is Falcon 1, over?"

" _Falon 1, this is Black Dragon X-ray, we read you."_

"I'm observing two foot-mobiles approximately five hundred meters north of our position copy?"

" _Roger that Falcon 1, do they have weapons?"_

"That's an affirmative," he replies, "One of them is carrying and rpg tube."

" _If they got weapons light 'em the fuck up."_

"Roger that, Falcon 1 out." Kowalski places the phone back down and turns to his partner. "Go ahead."

Malarkey wordlessly positions himself behind the tripod mounted M240 Lima, pulls the charging handle back and leans into the firing position. He turns off the safety and lines his sights up with the chest of the insurgent carrying the rpg, he pauses for a moment to exhale, and then squeezes the trigger.

* * *

So there he sat, in the cubical of a restroom in a corner store listening to an irate Kowalski on the phone. As anyone who has spent anytime in service, Malarkey was no stranger to getting chewed out and this one wasn't even close to being one of the worst ... but then again, it was over the phone while he was in a public restroom, so there's that, also Kowalski was now unusually calm after the initial scream.

" _So I got a phone call yesterday in response to your test flight last weekend_ ," Kowalski casually reported, " _Apparently there_ _was a fire on the pad. You have any idea what that was about?_ "

Malarkey lets out a sigh, the events of last weekend were still fresh in his mind.

"I crashed the Huey," Malarkey answers.

" _Wait_ ," Kowalski pauses in false surprise, " _My Huey? You mean, my 26 million Lien UH-1 Iroquois?!_ "

"It was a performance test to see if our dust enhanced helicopters could compete with current production aircraft and to see if our up-," Malarkey replies.

" _Yeah I know what the test was for, I wrote and scheduled the damn thing,_ " Kowalski snarls, cutting him off. " _I also read your debrief but still, why don't you, in your own words, tell me the test results._ "

Malarkey rests his head onto the wall of the cubicle as he responds "The UH-1 performed well above expectations. It managed to reach speeds exceeding 350 knots as well as performing 90 degree banks, barrel rolls, and other aerial maneuvers with ease all while carrying a myself and Master Sergent Senaviev along with tweleve other passengers."

" _You also made quite the show when you took the helo with a full crew, by the way on what you called the "Scenic Route" before you traveled through the countryside, performing said maneuvers. You quite frankly terrified the passengers, weaving in and out of valleys and slopes as well as flying under every bridge you could find, while barely maintaining an altitude of a hundred feet off the ground, and finished with the final act of taking the aircraft into a vertical dive down a nearly 9,000 foot cliff face nearly stalling it only to recover just before making a hard landing back at base._ "

"I would like to add that the maneuvers we performed with the helicopter would have torn apart most aircraft in the same situation."

" _Yep,_ " Kowalski snorts, " _And this would mean a whole lot more if you didn't crash it. Shall I read that part?_ "

Malarkey groans as he reminisces about that last statement.

" _You came to the pad at a too steep angle, tail striking the edge of the pad therefore severing the tail section from the main fuselage. In your crash landing, the body skidded to the edge of the helipad and sliced the roof off of a limo beloning to the Valian Ambassador._ "

A pause on the other end could be heard as Kowalsk took a deep breath.

"That incident also proved the survivability of the router blades as that limo was an armored car designed to stop .50 Caliber rounds, and the blades sliced through it like a pair of scissors through paper with practically no damage to the routers themselves," Malarkey quickly adds. Not really sure why, but he felt it was a good detail.

" _I just got chewed out by six people consecutively, let's count them out shall we?_ " Kowalski growls, " _First was Streicher, then was Basuda, and then Winter and Anderson in a tag team effort, followed by Mr. Schnee, and finally ending with General Ironwood himself. I am still expecting more to come. You are ungodly lucky you aren't sitting in a cell right now, and you do not want to know the strings Ironwood pulled to get that Ambasador off of you! What the fuck is wrong with you?! Why do you gotta do this?! You always have to push it, ignoring the mere concept of limitations! Why the fuck were you performing barrel rolls at 300 knots! You are lucky the routers didn't rip off! It's a utility helicopter, it's not your personal joyride machine! Now while I can't chew out Senaviev due to him being a higher rank than me, and also because he's getting his ass chewed out even more, but I don't exactly have that issue with ripping you a new one now don't I?_ "

"You of all people know how important these tests are," Malarkey counters, "These test could very well give us the relevant data we need when we start producing our fighter aircraft, which we desperately need."

" _Oh here we go again,_ " Kowalski growls.

"No, right now our birds are flying without any aircraft escorts, all our cargo craft severely out pace whatever escorts we currently have in all relevent caragories, that includes altitude, range, and speed! It's fine with cargo aircraft but once we start sending in our support craft, they'll be sitting ducks unless we can gain air superiority. Bullheads don't have the range and we can't keep using A10s, that is a waste of resources that can be better spent supporting the ground forces."

Kowalski grumbles back " _Be that as it may, that we are in no position to produce such aircraft, let alone train pilots in proper air-to-air combat. Flying a bullhead ain't like flying a fighter jet Evan, that shit doesn't exactly crossover! We'll have to make do with what we got. I am barely getting signed off on the helicopters as is._ "

"That's no-" Malarkey was cut off again.

" _I am ending that conversation here. Evan, we are only a week away from Beacon. You can not be pulling this shit, not now! After me, you are one of our main desingers and the lead engineer in our weapons department, what would have happened if you died in that crash? You would have put everything we have built up to this point into jeopardy as well as put to risk all our future projects which could set us back YEARS! We are going to discuss this in greater detail when we get back._ " *click*

Malarkey quietly puts the scroll back into his pocket and exists the stall. He blankly stares at the wall for a few seconds before screaming "FUCK!"

He then straightens his uniform and then washed his hands in the sink.

As he exited the restroom, the clerk glances over to him to which he mutters "Sorry about the noise."

"Everything alright? '' he asks.

"Just work," Malarkey responds simply.

The clerk choose not to pry and just nods and rings Malarkey up for the magazines and a pack of gum.

"That'll 11.15 Lien, Receipt?"

"No thank you," Malarkey shook his head.

"Have a nice night," the clerk says as he hands him the bag.

"You too."

He turns and exits the store. Now outside, he pulls out a cigarette and was prepared to light it only for it to be unceremoniously popped out of his mouth as someone bumps into him.

"Hey, watch it asshole," Malarkey growls.

Malarkey turns to his assaulter and comes face to face with a man with ginger hair, wearing a white trench coat, and bowler hat. To be frank, Malarkey thought he looked ridiculous, like any other over dressed, upper class prick. He then notices the group around the man all dressed in matching black suits and hats.

One of them approaches him growling "The fuck you say punk?"

The man simply waves them off and they go into the store leaving Malarkey alone in the street.

"Fucking peacock," he snorts as he turns and walks to his SUV parked across the street.

Still, Malarkey couldn't shake this feeling that he had seen that man somewhere before, he knows for a fact because he remembered people making a big deal about him. He looks down at the cigarette on the floor and lets out an exasperated groan.

"Fuck it," he then picks up the piece and throws it into the nearby trash can before walking to his SUV and throwing his bag into the passenger seat. He closes the door and walks to the driver-side only to come to a stop. Slapped onto the light-post directly in front of him, was a wanted poster of the man he literally just ran into.

"So that's why he looked familiar…" Malarkey muses.

He walks over to the back of his SUV and opens the trunk and he puts on his body armor, helmet, and attaches other miscellaneous equipment to his body. He then reaches further into the trunk and pulls out his M240 Lima and M870 shotgun, he places his shotgun into his back holster, does a quick equipment check on the M240, then attaches an ammo box, and feeds a belt into the receiver. Malarkey glances back at the store for a moment before he slings the machine gun to his side, grabs another ammo box, and closes the trunk. Without another thought, he picks up his scroll and dials the emergency number.

When the dispatcher pick up he quickly responded with "I'd like to report a robbery on the corner of 5th Str. and Monty Ave … Yes, it's…" he read the wanted poster, "It's Roman Torchwick along with twelve other members, and a possible hostage situation." Malarkey watches as one of the thugs changes the sign on the door from "open" to "closed." The thug then squints directly at him and then glares. They had seen him. "I'm going to have to call you back," mutters while watching the thug call over two more guys.

Anticipating what was about to come, he dove behind another car parked near him right as the thugs open fired. For several continuous seconds, Malarkey's world was filled with nothing but gunfire as the car he was hiding behind was riddled with smg rounds from the gang. Malarkey new he was pinned, and he couldn't really fire back without the risk of hitting the old man and the girl who he knew for a fact were still in the store, he needed to move. Quickly coming up with a plan, he pulls off a smoke grenade from his vest and pulls the pin, as the spoon fell off, Malarkey rolls the grenade under the car and waits as the cloud quickly covers his spot and the next car over. He notices a pause in the gunfire as the group stops to reload and quickly bounds over to the next parked car. Te thugs, now joined by more men fro mthe store begin to fire randomly into the cloud and one stray round strikes the hood of the car just centimeters from his hand.

Malarkey immediately recoils and curses "Jesus."

The gang members were unaware of Malarkey's sudden change in position, so they just keep firing blindly into the cloud. As the last of the members empty their guns, the smoke disperses enough to reveal the shot up car which they all stop and stare at.

"My turn."

Malarkey leans out of his cover and fires one full five second burst completely catching the group off guard. The two men directly in line with his barrel were the most unlucky as the rounds tore through their aura. The first man felt an intense stinging sensation followed completely numbness as a round passes through him from shoulder to shoulder before bonelessly crumbling to the floor. The man next to him let out an ear-piercing scream as a round tore through his knee. As he lay there screaming the group around them scattered behind whatever cover they could. Malarkey in the end had to do very little as with just a little pivot on his bipod, he could cover the entire area with suppressive fire. The gang would every now and then attempt to fire back only to be responded in kind with a short one second burst in their general direction. He could very easily have killed the entire group, but seeing as how he was in the middle of Vale, probably wouldn't look best on Atlas, let's just leave it at that. It was right now going fine, all Malarkey had to do was buy time and stall them until the police arrive-

*crash*

He had just finished that thought right as one of the thugs came crashing through the store window with a red blur riding on top of him.

"The fuck?" Malarkey mutters.

It was the girl from earlier, only know she was sporting a giant red scythe that was longer than her….and she was standing right in front of his sights. The living peacock wore a face of sheer bewilderment at what lay before him.

"Okay…." he murmurs.

A grunt took that was previously pinned saw the girl standing there blocking his boss' escape. He took the momentary silence as a an opening, he rose up from behind his cover and took aim at the girl. Malarkey swung his machine gun to the right and fired an aimed burst into the guys torso and the guy let out a choke scream as he was instantly blown down. As soon as that happened, the rest of the grunts who were there instantly zeroed their guns onto him as the rest of the group rushes into the street after the girl in red, and Malarkey swung his machine gun to meet them. A standoff ensued between the parties as they each waited for one side to make a move. The girl's eyes widened as she recognized him and he gives her a simply two fingered salute to which she smirks and nods her head. Then Roman bolted down the sidewalk. As the girl made short work of the grunts around her, Malarkey fired off at full-auto as Torchwick dove behind one of the parked cars.

*click*

Malarkey cursed as his ammo belt had finally ran dry. The grunts noticed this instantly and began to rush his position. The closest one pulled out a crimson sword and charged his left flank. Malarkey ducks and dives forward as the grunt misses his swing and lodges the blade into the door of the car. He turns around to face his opponent only to have his face bashed in by the stock of Malarkey's shotgun, Malarkey backs up and shoots him square in the chest, he takes a moment to assess his situation as two more grunts rush at him. One of the grunts pulls up in front of the car while another pops up onto his right and sprays at him with is smg. Malarkey locks the guy to his right in a stasis field, vaults over the car hood and drops the first grunt before popping up over the car roof and blasting the second as right as the stasis field failed. A few rounds hit the car window just inches away from him, he looks up and sees the last guy from the other side of the street. The grunt levels his rifle and laughs, he pulls the trigger and the rifle lets out a very audible *click.* The grunt gasps in shock as Malarkey bolts up, pulls out his sidearm and empties all twelve rounds into his chest. His aura was shattered almost instantly but he still kept standing as the rounds pushed him back before he slammed into the car behind him setting off the car alarm. Now finished, he shifts his aim to Roman and reloads his pistol without ever taking his eyes off of him. He walks up to the left of the girl who right about now the girl has finished off the last of the crew and kicked the last one into the air who then landed right at the feet of a mildly impressed Torchwick.

He grimaces at the men on the ground and comments sarcastically "You were worth every cent, you truly were." Roman takes one last puff of his cigar before dropping it on the floor and stamping it out with his cane. He nods at the two, "Well, Red, Green, I think we can all say it's been an eventful evening, and as much as I'd love to stick around…."

Roman raises his cane and opens the bottom to reveal a rifle with a cross grid sight at the end.

"...I'm afraid this is where we part ways."

"Shit!" Malarkey curses and immediately tackles the girl to the side right as Roman unleashes a red blast at where they were standing.

* * *

It had been one heck of a night for Ruby. It was just supposed to be another ordinary night and all she wanted was to read the latest issues of her favorite magazines. It was almost a complete nightmare when they ran out of _Milsurp Review_ and _Future Weapons Today!_ , her favorite weapons magazines. There had been a whole line of new weapons unveiled in Atlas and she wanted to read all about it. She also wanted to take her mind off of the fact that her older sister, Yang would be starting her first year at Beacon while she still had two more years in Signal. This was going to be their first year where the two were not going to be together, it didn't help that a boy her sister's age walked in wearing an Atlas military uniform. It's not that the boy was rude or anything, because he wasn't, it's just he ended up being another reminder of the impending doom. On top of it all, her night had taken a turn for the worst when someone had tried to rob her in the store and she launched one of the robbers through the store window as a response. A few bad guys down and some cool moves later, there she was lying in the street as a result of a wanted criminal who had just tried to kill her. As her vision cleared and she gets up, she looks over and sees the Roman climbing up the fire escape to the top of the building and the boy from earlier, now wearing a lot more gear, was taking pot-shots at him with his pistol. She sees the nametag on his vest, which said 'Malarkey.'

"Damnit," Malarkey cursed as Roman reached the top. He looks over and sees her, "Hey!" he shouts and runs over to her, "You alright?"

"Y-yeah!" Ruby nods back.

Malarkey looks behind her at the shopkeeper and shouts "Stay here! The police are on the way!"

He then ran to own of the shot up cars and pulls out his machine gun from earlier. Ruby would have loved to spend time disassembling that one fine piece of machinery, but she also knew now was not the time for her love for weapons! So she made a mental note to ask later.

"Hey!" Malarkey shouts at her drawing her attention. "He's getting away!" he shouts as he feeds another belt into his weapon and pulls the charging handle back.

"Oh right!" Ruby turns to the shopkeeper asking "You alright if we go after him."

The old man gave a short "Uh uh," and Ruby set off after Malarkey.

She caught up to him at the base of the later and he asks "You think you can get me up there?"

Ruby smiles and says simply "Hold tight."

* * *

Roman had just made it to the roof when Ruby can high-flying carrying Malarkey and landing right behind him. Malakey let go of Ruby's waist and took a deep breath from the sudden rush.

"Hey!" Ruby shouts after Roman.

He stopped at the edge and looked back at the two who now had their weapons aimed at him.

"Persistent…" Roman grimaces.

Suddenly, a familiar roar of a bullhead could be heard as right one rose up from over the edge and the hatch opens allowing Roman to climb inside. Before either could react, Roman hurls a red dust crystal at them. The crystal lands right at Ruby's feet, she looks up at Malarkey and gasps.

"End of the line!" Roman growls.

"No!" Malarkey reaches his hand out to Ruby right as the crystal explodes.

Roman let out a boisterous laugh, how cliche. To his surprise, the smoke dispersed to reveal an unharmed Ruby and knew person standing in front of her. A woman in a purple cape was now standing in front of Ruby, casting a circle of protection over them with her wand.

"Took you long enough," Malarkey comments.

The lady glances at him, he nods and takes a step back giving her the floor. She then waves her wand and summoning several streaks of purple before sending them at the bullhead. Roman is thrown around in the back until he reaches the cockpit. The huntress glows purple for a moment and launches another blast above the craft, resulting in a dark storm-cloud forming right over the jet.

"Woah," Malarkey breathes as he watches the spectacle.

With a flick of her wand, large jagged hail starts falling, pummeling the bullhead, even breaking one of the cockpit windows. Not one to be left out, Malarkey raised his M240 to his shoulder and fired, it was difficult to land accurate hits with the bulls head bobbing up and down from the punishment so most of the shots ended up peppering the hull with a few penetrations every now and then. Malarkey take aim at Roman in the cocket pit, exhales and waits for the aircraft to move in front of his sights just just for a moment, and fires a single two round burst. Roman looks over just in time to see Malarkey's muzzle flash before something slams into his chest. He momentarily lost control of the craft as it dipped forward. When she regained control, he found that the bullet had entered into his left collar and out through his back, miraculously missing any bones or tendons.

"Lookout!" Ruby cried to Malarkey.

He looked up in time to see a woman in a red dress standing at the hatch of the aircraft reach back as her arms and chest light up like fire. She then directs the burst of energy at him. The huntress darts in front of him and blocks it, but the flame splatters behind her forcing them to dive out of the way. Malarkey rolls to the right and fires multiple bursts at the woman who ducks back behind the hatch before the bullets could hit her. Malarkey backs up as the huntress magically gathers the remaining ice shards to create a large arrow, which she throws at the craft. The fiery woman in response shatters it with several blasts, but the arrow manages to reform just in time to strike the side of the bullhead. The huntress restricts the shards and circles them around the craft, preparing for another go, but the woman summons several glowing rings around herself and rapidly expands them destroying the shards.

Ruby finally acts and reverts the scythe into its rifle form and fires at the woman who blocks each shot with her hand. The woman creates several more circles surrounding the three of them and Malarkey disperses a shockwave snuffing the flames out. He then runs forward firing his machine gun at full-auto at the fleeing craft. As the aircraft disappears from sight, he finally lowers the weapon.

He shakes his head and mutters "Well, shit."

"Swear!" Ruby hisses.

He turns to comment before they are both cut off by the huntress clearing her throat.

"A-hem."

Ruby looks over at her and is instantly awe-struck.

"You're a huntress!" she stated.

The woman politely nods.

"Can I have your autograph?" she cries in a pleading tone.

Malarkey groans "Seriously?"

* * *

So he finally learned the name of the companions he had met this evening, the girl being Ruby Rose, dead giveaway, and the huntress being one Professor Glynda Goodwitch, his future headmistress. He should probably handle this situation a bit delicately.

'Just tell her the truth,' thought Malarkey, 'But also don;t say anything until he sees his lawyer!'

"I hope that you realize that your actions tonight will not be taken lightly! Both of you put yourself and others in great danger."

"But-"

"Ruby don't say anything," Malarkey instructed.

"Huh?" she turns to him, "Wait why?"

Malarkey looks over at Goodwitch and asks "Is it alright if I…."

Professor Goodwitch rolls her eyes and sighs, but still nods.

"Okay, you're not legally obligated to say anything that could possibly lead you to self incriminating yourself," he states. Ruby quirks her head as she tries to process what she is being told, "And you really shouldn't say anything to the police or otherwise without the proper legal representation."

"You mean a lawyer?" asks Ruby scratching her head.

"Yep," he then continues "So you know how they gave us our one phone call when they brought us to the station?" Ruby nods. "While you called your dad I assume…" Ruby nods again, "Well I got us a lawyer, and he should be arriving…" Malarkey looks at his watch, "...Right...about ..."

The door swings open and in walks a balding middle age man in a suit.

"Don't say another world!" he states while pointing at the two of them.

"...Now," Malarkey smiles.

The man walks over to the professor and introduces himself.

"Hello, my name is Saul Goodman, I am their attorney."

Saul walks up to them chuckles and says "Some evening huh? I mean, when I was your age, I got into some wild things too, so I get it. It's tough, and it may seem bad now, but I promise, years down the line, we can all just laugh about it."

"Mr. Goodman," the professor said sternly, "Your _clients_ are here due to their recklessness and complete disregard for their own safety, chasing after a wanted criminal in the mists of a robbery."

"Actually," Saul corrected, "My clients' presence on the scene was just a matter of poor coincidence," He glances over to them, "Now I agree that what they did was incredibly reckless, but they were also the only ones there who could have acted, seeing as how it took you two minutes to arrive on scene and the police wouldn't arrive until later. By that time you would have arrived, the robbers would have long fled the scene. As regards to the fighting and as per Specialist Malarkey's testimony, he actually made a call to the police before the shooting started, and Miss Rose was caught in the store while robbery attempt was made, the security cameras in the store and on the street corroborate this. Now as to why my clients acted, they were acting completely in self-defense."

"About your clients _response_ ," Goodwitch narrows her eyes, "I want to talk about Mr. Malarkey's ecessive use of lethal force."

"Well I don't-"

She pulls up a file and slaps it onto the table.

"One dead and six hospitalized!" she retorts, "Half them are in critical condition with one of them being paralyzed from the neck down."

Ruby nervously shifted her gaze at Malarkey.

'He killed one of them?' she thought.

"Once again, my client acted in self defense."

Goodwitch gave a glare at the lawyer before relenting.

"Despite my concerns, this is not an interrogation," Goodwitch replies, "But you and your client must be made aware of any legal backlash as a response to the actions he took tonight."

Saul smiles and replies, "And I'll be there to take care of it whenever and wherever it may spring up. So if this isn't an interrogation, and charges aren't being pressed, I beleive my services are done."

Professor Goodwitch nods. They begin to get up before the professor asks "Miss Rose, could you please stay for a moment, there is someone who would like to meet you."

Upon hearing that, Saul pats Malarkey on the should and says, "You go ahead, I'll stay and make sure nothing shady happens."

Malarkey nods and heads out on his own, upon leaving the room, he spotted an old man walking past him. Malarkey instantly recognizes him as Professor Ozpin, the headmaster of Beacon academy. Professor Ozpin politely nodded at him and entered the interrogation room.

* * *

So there Malarkey sat, outside the police station smoking a cigarette, it was nice of the police to tow his car over to the station. That would make walking back for his car a lot easier. He had no reason to stay, he could always just call Saul for the bill, but something told him he should wait for Ruby. The door finally opens and out walks Saul and Ruby.

"Hey, how's my favorite client," Saul greets.

Malarkey takes his hand and shakes it.

"Thanks Saul, really appreciate it."

"Not a problem man," Saul casually waves it off, "It's like I always say, you have legal trouble…."

He points at the two.

"Better call Saul!" Ruby chirps.

"That's right," he cheekily smiled, "G'night y'all!"

They waved goodbye as Saul pulled out from the parking lot.

"He's nice," Ruby comments.

"He's the best lawyer I know," Malarkey turns back to Ruby, "How'd it go?"

"Professor Ozpin pushed me two years forward!" Ruby cries excitedly, "I'm going to Beacon!"

"Nice!" he chuckles, "With moves like the ones you pulled, I'm not surprised."

Ruby beamed with pride, "That's right! This girl is gonna go wild! Watch out world, here comes Ruby Rose!" She strikes a karate pose and shouts "Hi ya!"

Malarkey upon seeing her pose, burst out laughing.

"Hey!" Ruby snaps now looking offended.

"I'm sorry, you have no idea how cute you look just now!"

"I'm not cute, I am a deadly huntress, trained to slay Grim with a flick of my finger. Hmph!" Ruby crossed her arms and pouted not helping her case.

"Is that right?" Malarkey smiles as Ruby nodded confidently. His smile fades as he remembered what he did. "Hey Ruby, about what happened, about the guy I….."

"It's alright," Ruby responds solemnly, "I don't like that you ended his life, but I don't hate you for it. You did what you felt was right and this was something I can't say my family tried to warn be about, but still...I didn't think it would happen to soon."

"I know, and I'm sorry you had to see that," Malareky bows his head in shame.

Ruby takes and deep breath, and despite how much it bothered her, she still remembered what her Unlce Qrow told her.

Ruby replies softly "Some people don't like what we do, and sometimes we have to stop them, even if it means...killing them. I don't think you're evil."

Malarkey looks to her, Ruby puts on a sad smile, "You did save my life backthere, if it's alright, I would like to stop talking about this...I'd liek to come to terms with it on my own."

Alright Ruby," Malarkey nods, it still bothered him heavily how he gunned the man down in the middle of the street.

"You're going to Beacon too right?" Ruby asks snapping him out of his slum.

"Yeah," he replies.

"Give me you scroll," Ruby demanded, "I'm gonna put my number in it."

"Aaaaallllllright," Malarkey suspiciously handed it to her.

She warmly smiles as she hands him back his scroll.

"There, now we can talk to each other if either of us ever need to. It'll be nice to have a friend going into Beacon, Malarkey," Ruby smiles.

"Evan," he corrected.

"Huh?"

"My first name is Evan," he repeated, "If we're gonna be friends, please call me by my first name."

"Alright then, I'll see at school Evan!" she waves.

"You probably will," he smirks before waving goodbye and getting into his car.

He starts the engine and pulls out from the parking lot, he has ten minutes until he reaches the place where he and the guys are staying. That's ten minutes he doesn't have to worry about how he's going to explain what happened tonight to Anderson.

* * *

 **Name:** Malarkey, Evan, P.

 **Rank/Pay Grade:** SPL/E-4

 **DOB:** 21-July-2364

 **Height:** 6'3"/1.92m

 **Weight:** 209lbs/95kg

 **Age:** 16

 **Appearance:** BF4 Support. Woodland camo-net scarf, and tan mechanic gloves.

 **Loadout:** Due to being one of the lead weapons developers of the PAC, he may be seen using other weapons for field testing purposes, but in combat, he will always have the same primary.

 **Primary:** FN M240L

Ammunition: 7.62×51mm NATO/.308 Winchester

Attachments: Trijicon 6x48 ACOG + Dual Illuminated Horseshoe-Dot Sight

 **Secondary:** Remington M870

Ammunition: 12 Gauge 00 Buck

Attachments: pistol grip, adjustable-stock, threaded muzzle, flashlight, Dual Illuminated Horseshoe-Dot Sight, vertical fore-grip, short-barrelled.

 **Tertiary:** Kimber MFG. Custom Covert II.

Transformation: Trench Knife (Primary)

Ammunition: .45 ACP

Attachments: 12 round ext. magazines, Multi-purpose laser sight.

 **Melee:**

Tomahawk (Off-hand)

 **Gadgets:**

Model 308-1 Napalm: Incendiary grenade that spreads napalm onto the target.

Bouncing Betty: a proximity mine that jumps up into the air fro maximum shrapnul dispersion.

Heartbeat Sensor: a Tablet that displays rouch information about nerby enemies.

 **Semblance:** Adept

Abilities:

Stasis: Stasis causes a target to be temporarily locked in a gravity field, freezing the target in place and making them unable to move or attack. Objects locked in stasis will also become impervious to damage.

Singularity: This gravitational power sucks multiple enemies within a radius to a single area, leaving them floating helplessly and vulnerable to attack. It can also attract objects from the environment, such as crates or pieces of furniture; enemies will take damage if they collide with other solid objects in the Singularity field.

Shockwave: Launches multiple explosions of energy that travel along the ground and will launch targets into the air if hit.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Here we go, we are now at the official start of the show. I do plan on having chapters not involving Beacon so you can expect the locations and timeline to bounce around a bit. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this and I'll see you in the next chapter. Remember, Big Brother is Watching ...Always.**


	14. Black Ice

**Author's Note: The first of these little snidbits that I'm writing, also my version of the Black trailer, this is probably the only one I'm doing since I need it for my plot to work.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Black Ice

"Push forward!" Adam barks out. "Artyom clear the door!"

The faunus in question kicks in the door to the carriage and the group immediately are met by another group of bots. Those who had rfiels let loose a volley of automatic fire flew out as the melle oriented crew moved up through the train cart, clearing the cart about as quickly as to when the bots arrived. This was just one of many small skirmishes that Adam and his crew had encountered. The train's security was made up of the usual lot, AK-130 security droids, the occasional SDC Security Officer, and some new type of gun bot that carried a rifle and shot at them. The on-board security had proven to be rather minor, Adam and Blake alone cleared out most of them. With most of the droids destroyed and most of the guards knocked out, the group pressed on.

They were about halfway up the train when they were once again, met with stiff resistance, only this time it was different. They immediately came under fire from an unknown group of combatants, and unlike the previous guards, these people didn't wear any distinctive uniform. Their clothing consisted of either hooded trench coats or hoodies, military style vests and rifles, they had a very rugged, militia feel about them. The most distinct aspect of this new group were the white, blank masks they wore which made Adam think they were mercenaries, perhaps hired as extra security. Adam lunges forward at the remaining bots and quickly cleaves four of them in half in one swing, Blake follows it up with a shockwave from Gambol Shroud blasting the remaining bots into the walls around them.

"Flash-bang out!"

Adam catches a glimpse of one of the mercenaries at the other end of the carriage throw a skinny black, grenade like object. He watched as it sailed towards Blake and without thinking, he propels himself forward knocking Blake to the ground and covering her. Instead of an explosion, Adam's world was instead filled with a blinding white light. His ears had an incredibly loud ringing which reverberated throughout his ear canals and vibrated his ear drums to the point they hurt, and with the way Blake was screaming, it was basicallly torture for her sensitive ears. Adam also felt concussed and disoriented, as if someone had landed a good blow to his face, he counted a good five seconds before his vision started to return, he watched, barely able to move as several men were cut down by a stream of automatic fire. Adam looked down the aisle and saw a pair of mercenaries, who he had now dubbed white-masks who blocked off the entrance with a pair of ballistic shields with another group firing over their shoulders. Adam and Blake both notice one of the men in the back of the formation prepping a grenade.

"Make it count," Adam says to Blake.

He then bolts up and begins deflecting the bullets, Blake pops up and fires a round just as the man in the back of the formation pulls the arming lever off of the grenade. The round nails the man in the shoulder, knocking him to the floor and releasing the grenade. The soldier looks up in horror before scrambling for it.

He panickedly screams "Grenade!" in vain.

The explosive detonates in the middle of the group, four of the men, including the two shields were eviscerated with blood and parts splattered halfway up the carriage, the wounded lay there among the dead, screaming. The remaining men slowly got up as another squad entered in to join them.

Not wasting the element of surprise, Blake runs ahead and charges up another shock-wave with Gambol Shroud blowing the first group apart. Blake drops to the floor and slides under a soldier while he tries to fire at her, she takes out his feet and clocks him in the head as he falls. She then somersaults forward, brings her weapon up in a reverse grip and slashes at the second's knee. As the man falls, she plants a powerful kick into his chest and it launches him into the door blasting it open. Adam closes in and effortlessly cleaves through the first mercenary. Adam swiftly bats away another two as he makes his way up the carriage, the third brings up his rifle only for Adam to punch it out of his hands and slashing him across the chest. Adam passes Blake, shaving his sword before walking to the open door. Behind them a White Fang member casually walks up to the survivors and raises his pistol.

"Pilate," Blake reached out, "Stop."

"Why?" he smirks, "We're basically mercy killing them."

"They're already bleeding to death," Blake protests.

"Then why don't we help them bleed a little faster?" he asks before he and a few others execute the remaining men. Blake watches in shock and the man tilts his head in confusion at her, "Oh don't give me that look, you didn't care about them this much when you were cutting them apart earlier."

Blake glares at him and grabs the handle of her weapon before Adam stops her and shakes his head, they had a mission. The group run through the opening into the next cart which was this open trailer with crates tied down all along the carriage. They saw the leader who was completely concealed by his white-hazmat suit.

"Hostiles!" an assault drone screeches and the machines let up and charged and the soldiers fired over them.

The entire party charges in to meet them and quickly decimate the horde.

"Where are the MG teams, move your asses!" the leader barks.

Two pairs of white-masks run up from the trailer behind him and plant a tripod and machine-gun onto either side of the cart. They are soon joined by more men who take cover behind the various crates as well as snipers who climb on top of the roof of the next car as the group charges forward. Adam pauses just long enough to see the guns and his eyes widen as the second in command prepares to give the order to fire. Suddenly a round echoes throughout the train as the second-in-command is slammed into the ground. At the same time, one of the teams are obliterated by Artyom's RPG, the other riflemen zero in on his position and fire, one of them managing to land a hit on his side. Blake watches as Artyom slumps down and falls off the side, Blake charges and grapples onto the first sniper, pulling herself to him and kicking him in the stomach, launching him into the sniper behind him. She whirls the chain around, wraps it around the ankles of the third, and pulls him to the ground. With one final move, she hurls her scabbard at the fourth sniper, nailing him in the head, knocking him out before picking it back up and knocking out the tied up sniper on the ground.

Blake quickly runs back to the downed Artyom and helps him stand back up.

"Are you hit?" Blake asks with a concerned look as she eyes the leaking wound at his side.

"I'll be fine!" he declares as he quickly shoves a piece of dressing onto his wound.

Blake nods and reports "Snipers are down."

"Arty take out the last machine gun!" he barks.

Without hesitation, Artyom pops out from behind his crate and fires his rpg.

"Monty!" he looks to the back, "You're clear to push!"

From behind, a figure emerges from the crowd decked out, from head to toe in armor made up of layers of Kevlar, reinforced by ceramic and steel. The weight of the suit was made evident from the thunderous steps the man took, yet despite this, the man showed no protest or discomfort. Cradled in his arms was the same machine gun that the teams they had destroyed earlier used, only it was modified for single use ...and he handled it as if it was just an ordinary rifle.

"Juggernaut!" a white-mask screamed.

Now no longer endangered from the machine guns and snipers, Monty pushed on. Monty walked through combined fire as if it was simply dust, and grenades only served to slow him down. In comparison, Monty's machinegun tore through the white-masks who soon came under fire from other members as they climbed on top of the crates.

"Fall back!" one of them screamed and the white-masks began retreating further into the train.

"We need to keep pushing," Pilate reported to Adam. "It's not much further until we reach our target, then we can bring in the bullheads."

"Alright, Pilate, you take a team onto the roof, secure our exit, the rest will stay with Monty and I as we push out the remaining pockets of resistance."

Pilate slaps a new magazine into his rifle before bellowing "Alright you heard him, let's move!"

The party splits into two, one group climbed onto the roof of the cars while the other continued their advance down the corridor. It was quiet as they made their way down the dimly lit hallway.

"Clear," someone reported.

"It's clear here to," another reported.

"You know we're walking right into an ambush right Adam?" Blake asks.

Adam turns on his radio and says "Pilate, come in."

" _Here_."

"Is your team in position?" he asks.

" _Right above target,_ " he responds, " _Waiting on you._ "

"Plant the charges," Adam points to the reinforced door.

Artyom walks up and straps a satchel charge onto the seal of the door.

" _Detonating in 3...2….1…._ "

The entire trains hook as the explosion reverberated throughout the metal.

"Hit it," Adam barks.

"Detonating!" Artyom responds before depressing the trigger on the detonator.

There was a flash followed by a thundering roar as the door was disintegrated revealing the surprised white masks who were currently looking up at the ceiling. The closest one turned and watched with wide eyes as Monty levels his weapon and fires into the crowd, quickly cutting them down. By now, the remaining white-masks have recovered from the initial shock and begin firing back. The white-masks fought ferociously but soon found themselves slowly backing closer to the back wall of the car. From behind them, more members rappel down from the blown out roof and they quickly find themselves surrounded. The door to the office then suddenly kicks open and out walks the leader who fires off his rifle killing a couple of unlucky white fang members in front of him. Then without hesitation, he charges the main group and pulls out a detonator and depresses the trigger, blue and red lights flash on his suit, and a collection of beeps and rings could be heard as he charges, it was then when Monty notices the bricks of C4 strapped to his chest.

"He's rigged!" he screams.

Several members being firing at him but to no avail. Without any other option, Monty picks up Artyom and throws to the back, he turns and charges into the leader.

"Monty no!" Adam screams and tries to run after him.

Blake tackled him to the floor and they are forced to watch as Monty dives into the leader, releasing the trigger. As soon as the fight had begun, it was all over, the original party had been reduced to almost half of its original size, and for what? Some cheap bots and mechs? Adam let out a sigh as he slowly picked himself off the floor.

* * *

With the train stopped and resistance stamped out, Adam's crew was now free to secure their cargo.

"What's the haul?" he asks Artyom, his resident engineer.

"Mostly bots, the standard AK-130s, rifles, grenades, and dust," Artyom listed off, "Pretty standard, though there is this spider-mech."

He points to the giant, red, multi-legged bot sitting in its stowed position.

"How wasn't that activated when we came in?" Adam inquires.

"For some reason it was turned off," Artyom shrugs while looking over the data-pad, "It's almost like someone else got here first."

"Was it the white-masks?" asks Adam

"Most likely," Artyom mused, "Speaking of which, any idea on who they were, they sure don't look like any SDC guards I've ever seen?"

"No," Adam shook his head, "Neither were their equipment," Adam hands him one of the rounds he picked up from off the floor, "You recognize this?"

Artyom takes he round and examines it before his eyes light up in surprise.

"Yeah," I can tell you what rifle its from as well. "Its 7.62x39mm from a Kalash rifle. The uh...bootleg version of the PAC Kalashnikov."

"Bootleg?"

"Someone stole the rifle design from the PAC when the first started out," Artyom explained, "They also managed to steal several other things and leak them onto the web."

"What do you know about it?" asks Adam.

"It's cheap, easy to produce, easy to train, and it's almost unparalleled in its reliability. I've seen versions submerged in clay and all other sorts of substances only for them to slap a fresh mag in and fire it as if it had just came off of the production line." Artyom looks up, "It's perfect for if raise an army on a budget. That includes militia, rebels, guerillas ...the list goes on."

"What can you tell me about the round?" he asks.

"They're steal cored," Artyom chuckles, "It works wonders as a cheap armor piercing round, it'll easily cut through most body armor with ease, I'm actually surprised that Monty held out as long as he did, it's rather nasty against aura too."

He notices Artyom's limp and wince as he makes his way over to the console. He narrows his eyes noticing the dressing under his Arty's hand which was firmly grasping his side.

"Is that what happened to your side?" Adam asks.

Artyom winces and nods, "One of their snipers. I took one of their rounds to the side, I was enhancing my rockets at the time, so I didn't have my aura focused and it just blew through and it hit my liver." Before Adam could continue, Artyom adds "Doc says I'll be fine, my aura is holding it for now, but I gotta leave soon."

Adam lets out a worried sigh, "Alright, we're gonna have one more meeting on the open carriage before we go," Adam tells him.

"You go ahead," he replies, "I'll wrap this up and meet you at the bullheads when its done."

Adam walked up to Blake who noticed the solemn look on his face.

"You alright?" Blake asks comfortingly.

Adam wanted to tell her the truth, he wanted to say that he had doubts about this mission since the planning phase, and most of all, he's had this sinking feeling of dread in his stomach ever since their mission began. He even suspected that the true purpose of this mission wasn't actually a heist, but perhaps something much more sinister. There was even a chance that it really was nothing and Adam was just being paranoid, but that was what his time in his position has carried with him, and it's what has kept him alive.

"Somethings wrong," Adam murmurs.

"Is this the usual paranoia, or are we talking for real this time," she asks with a joking smile.

She then frowns upon seeing that Adam was serious.

"It's the mercenaries isn't it," she stated more than asked.

"They're not here for security," Adam says, "Somebody knew we were coming."

"Who do you think sent them?" Blake asks, growing more serious.

Before Adam could answer, Pilate calls out from behind them.

"Adam we should get going soon," he calls out, "Atlas has found out about our little party, they've sent gunships, eta two minutes."

"Bring the prisoners!" he orders and the guards shuffle some of the handcuffed men to the next cart.

As they walked to Pilate, everyone all around them were busy transferring as much equipment as they could onto their two bullheads. One of them were already in the air and ready to leave.

Pilate turns and notices them, "Oh Adam, is it my birthday already? You shouldn't have."

"Doc how many prisoners do we have?" Adam asks.

"Six chief," the medic replies.

"The ones who hired them knew we were coming, I want them prepped for interrogation back at the hideout, find out who sent them," Adam ordered.

"I suppose this does tie up one loose end," Pilate chuckles under his breath.

"Huh?"

Adam turns just in time to see Pilate raise his pistol and executes Doc before his men shoot the remaining prisoners.

"What are you-"

Adam steps forth to confront him only to be met at gunpoint by the other members and the medic pulls out his gun in response.

"I always hated that guy," Pilate scoffs, thinking of the medic as he reloaded his pistol, "Too much of a humanitarian when we needed a warrior."

"Shit," Artyom hisses, watching the whole thing. "He ducks down and runs back into the trailer."

He sees the spider mech and runs for it.

"I always knew you'd turn traitor," Blake narrows her eyes at him.

"You're one to talk," Pialte growls, "I'm still loyal to my cause, you're the one following the real traitor."

Blake follows his gaze to Adam.

Reading the look on her face, Pilate rolls his eyes, "Oh, so he hasn't told you, has he? I might as well tell you now, for the past year, this bastard has been feeding information to the Atlas military."

"Adam?" Blake asks incredulously.

He looks to her and bows his head, "I'm sorry Blake."

"You really didn't think that we wouldn't find out?" Pilate asks.

"I am a patriot, not a murderer," Adam states.

"What difference does it make?" Pilate glares, "We're terrorists to their eyes no matter what you try to do with your conscience. At least I didn't betray my own people."

"Yet you slaughter innocents left and right!"

"They're going to get involved either way, I know you're just as guilty of those same crimes as I am," Pilate counters before stepping closer and glaring, "I know what you've told them Adam, we are going to change the course of history, and nothing is going to stop us, not even you." He turns to his men and says "Kill them both."

"What?" Adam asks, "No, she's innocent in this, let her go!"

"Yet even now, learning what she's learned, she's still loyal to you," Pilate without another word, turns away.

"I'm sorry you had to learn this way," Adam bowed his head in shame.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Blake asks with a single tear rolling down her face. "I would have left with you."

Adam reaches up and wipes a tear from her face before pulling her into a hug as the men around them raise their weapons. They both close their eyes and await their coming fate as they both slowly reached for their weapons for one last stand.

Suddenly, a loud commotion was heard from the trailer followed by loud cannon fire. The trailer explode and out ran the spider mech from earlier. In all the confusion, Adam and Blake dive behind one of the crates. The other members start to fire at the merc with their rounds bouncing harmlessly off the armor. Adam and Blake looks up to see Artyom beckoning to them.

"Let's go!" Adam barks.

Without another word, the two climb on top of the crates and begin running for the trailer. Behind them, the situation was in chaos as the soldiers tried to fight off the mech. The mech charges up a pulse and fires it into the parked bullhead. The blast ignites the dust crates, creating a chain explosion nearly destroying the cargo, the bullhead and half the car.. Pilate sees Adam and Blake making a break for it.

"They're getting away!" he shrieks.

"I don't normally help traitors, but I think you two have your reasons."

"Arty! I don't have time to explain." Adam cries as he pulls the two up.

"Go," Artyom simply states, "Get to the engine and get it running!"

"On it!" shouts Blake running ahead.

Aryom stops Adam.

"There's one more thing," Artyom swallows a lump and continues, "I won't be going with you, when it reaches full throttle, I'll sever you guys from the rest of the train, physics should take care of the rest. Go, I'll try to buy you some time."

"Arty what are you talking about?" Adam asks.

He looks down to Artyom's stomach and sees blood seeping through his hand.

"Let me see."

"There's nothing you can do," he protested.

"Let me see!"

Artyom raises his hand revealing his wound.

"Damn it there's too much blood!" Blake hisses. "I can't see a thing."

"Its my liver Blake," Artyom explains.

"I'm going to get you out of here."

"No," Artyom shakes his head.

"I'm not leaving you!"

"Adam it's too late for me!" he cries, "Right now my aura is the only thing holding me together and its quickly draining and even if I managed to limp away with you guys, I'm going to bleed out in a matter of minutes, I'm dead either way the least I can do is make sure you get away."

Adam pauses as the reality dawns upon him. The train restarted and was gaining speed, shouting could be heard getting closer to them. Adam was forced to leave him as he ran for the engine. Artyom raises his rpg and loads in one final rocket and poured the last of his aura into it.

* * *

When Adam finally reaches the train's cockpit, he spots Blake at the controls, she turns to face him.

"That should do it, whereas Arty?" she asks.

She then notices the tears in Adam's eyes as he struggled to hold them back. A rumbling could be heard throughout the train and it started to speed up now that it wasn't dragging the extra weight. She wordlessly stands up and meets the eyes of her partner, tears now flowing.

"What do we do now?" she asks, looking down at the ground.

"We've been no doubt branded as traitors, so the Menagerie is out of the question. So is pretty much any other Wihte Fang cell." Adam shrugs as he slumps down in one of the seats. "Other than that, I'm open for options."

He then looks up as he sees something flying overhead.

"Stop the train," he says simply before getting up and walking for the balcony.

"What?" Blakje says aloud, she puts the brakes on and follows him out.

As the train slowed, she watched slack jawed. Before them, hovering overhead was a pair of aircraft, they had a general shape of a bullhead but had two spinning blade like objects powering their flight, one massive one, almost the size of the craft spinning horizontally on top of it, and a smaller on spinning vertically on the tail. All in all they were both alien to her, but she did recognize the Atlas markings on them. On the crafts stubby wings, she could clearly see weapons, they were much more heavily armed than your average bullhead. She looks over to Adam who seemed bothered by the craft. As the craft lands and one of the crew steps out and calls to them. Adam raises his hand, telling her it was alright and then walks to greet the man.

* * *

 **Author's note: We'll be seeing the results of that interaction later on down the line. I don't see a lot of stories that feature Adam as a hero, rather thna his usual villain self, so I wanted to give it a shot, I always saw him as a more along the lines of Malcom X's philosophy with meeting force with force, urging fans to defend themselves against aggression "by any means necessary." The changes in SDC policies removes some of the hate he has for the company, though he will still have contempt for the company as a whole, rather than all the individual employees. This is a bit of a leap, hopefully not too big from what I've already done. Its too late and I've put this off long enough to its now or never. That is all for now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave all comments down in the reviews. Thank you and remember, Big Brother is watching, always.**


	15. Dust Line

**Author's Note: So, it turns out, the Rainbow 6 seasons actually make for great chapter titles, I found a great spot to put aside chapters for the characters and their company separate from the actual plot. Oh in another side note, I do prefer the imperial system of the metric, but there is no way I can realistically explain why that system would exist in Remnant, so anytime the main characters are talking to anyone other than themselves, they will use the metric system, just for convenience. When the group is by themselves, or when I'm talking to you, I'll use the imperial. Also on another side note, I'm gonna put the world population at 3 billion, which was what our planet was in the year 1960 and Generaal Ironwood mentioned that millions of viewers were watching in the episode "Destiny." I figured since they are technically living in an era of relative peace with the last war technically fought was almost a hundred years ago. So that's plenty of time for the world to advance and increase in population, etc. Any who, this is what the population of the four major kingdoms should look like, I'm judging it based off of location and etc, this does not include the population for independent towns, places like the Menagerie and so on.**

 **Vale: first up, they should have the highest population density, geography seems to favor growth.**

 **Population: 1,150,780,030**

 **Mistral: has the highest population, it's a little rougher than Vale geography wise, but the same principles still apply.**

 **Population: 866,529,980**

 **Atlas: the terrain does make it a little more difficult, so their growth may have been stalled until they were able to create the technology for sustainment.**

 **Population: 318,857,056**

 **Vacuo: has a harsh terrain and the majority of it is inhospitable, kind of like Russia.**

 **Population: 143,895,551**

 **That leaves a little under 600 million to represent the rest of the world.**

* * *

Dust Line

 **Fort Solitaire: Test Site Bravo**

"Well, they current rounds being issued are doing their job, and they green tipped .223s are proven to be capable of piercing aura," Malarkey reports to Ironwood.

"So what exactly is the problem?" asks Ironwood

"The overall performance of our .223 Remington green tips are performing ...mediocre at best, sir," Malarkey answers.

He then hands him the file and Ironwood begins to look through them.

"I thought you said gunpowder was more powerful than dust," he comments.

"If I gave you that in tension, I apologize sir," he muses, "Technically speaking, gram for gram, dust actually provides more energy than gunpowder, but the majority of that energy is wasted once it leaves the barrel. I noticed a drastic difference in pressure when comparing the two, I tried to replicate a gunpowder cartridges performance by cranking up the pressure in a dust round but ..."

"The rifle exploded," Ironwood finishes, "Which was why a lot of firearms being used, including the previous service rifle, didn't fire a solid round."

"When packed and prepared in a certain way, dust makes amazing explosives, hell, it's why we prefer using them for grenades and 40 mike-mikes; but at least for the range and penetration we need, dust is inadequate," Malarkey nods.

"So where do your current rounds struggle?"

"Penetrating aura."

Ironwood quirks his eyebrow in surprise.

"Currently, a soldier practically needs to empty all thirty rounds of his magazine before breaching through a person's aura," Malarkey signs, "That might be fine in an arena, but that is atrocious for combat, and with our last encounter with a particularly brutal group of bandits," he flips to the report and Ironwood looks at the photos of the site, "We can't risk another engagement like this. We're not actually penetrating the aura, rather we're just overwhelming it with force. We also can't expect enemy fighters to stand around and let our soldiers to fire into them, and I'm not just talking about bandits sir, I'm also talking about potential enemy huntsman as well."

"You expect a war," Ironwood stated more than asked.

Marleky looks around warily before leaning closer to the general and lowering his voice, "Sir, and I both know that this so called "peace," this isn't going to last. I've seen this all before, a complicated arc of alliances, bolstered by an ever growing sense of nationalism in each of the kingdoms, and an arms race with each kingdom hoping to achieve military dominance not only over the Grimm, but the other kingdoms as well." Malakery lets out a sigh and apologetically says, "Our _arrival_ General, may have been the ultimate catalyst for general-"

"You have nothing to apologize for," Ironwood waves it off, "The arms race has been growing since the end of the Great War 80 years ago, though you may be responsible for its rather rapid escalation." He looks back at the report and raises it up, "I assume you have a solution to this?"

"It might help," Malarkey smirks.

He then opens the door into the warehouse. He walks up to a freshly packed crate of rounds and pulls out a handful of varying calibers. He pulls out a .223 round that looked almost identical to the ones currently being fielded, save for the metal cap at the top of it.

"First, a replacement for our current .223s."

He places it onto the table.

"I present to you, the .223 Remington M225 Semi-Armor Piercing, High Explosive round. We upped the pressure and power dramatically, so now it flies out of a 50-cm (20-in) barrel at a little of 1400 m/s (4650 ft/s). Upon impact with the target, the penetrator collapses into the round, triggering a prime which then ignites the explosive filament. The round is then hot loaded with an almost 6,000 degree magnesium burn, transforming the copper liner into a super heated jet of plasma which punches through whatever is left of the barrier, right into the target's body."

"Penetration?"

"It'll punch through a type four ballistic plate at a 150 meters (164 yards) and leave a golf-ball sized hole in the human torso. The round has been combat tested as well, huntsman teams, special forces, they all report on average, two to three bursts before the penetration of a person's aura."

Ironwood picks it up to examine the cartridge closer.

"This is just purely speculation, but I hypothesize that aura is vulnerable to extreme heat, allowing a well focused blast to poke holes into a person's aura momentarily, allowing projectiles to pass through almost unabated. It would explain why shrapnel still has a rather nasty effect on its victims regardless of aura."

Ironwood remains silent as he examines the cartridge, he places it back into the box and asks, "What else?"

"The .30 cals are nothing much," he picks up the red tipped rounds, "These are for our snipers and machine guns, you see, dust is a rather volatile substance, often explosive if mishandled. These rounds offer relatively the same armor penetration with the added benefit of igniting any dust canister if hit. It'll definitely help with anti-material applications."

He then picks what looked like a tank sabot rounds shrunk down into rifle form.

"Finally, I present to you, the .50 BMG APFSDS," he places it under the light.

".50 cal already kills humans aura or not," Ironwood snorts, "What's the point of this?"

"It's purely for armor penetration sir," Malarkey replies, "The point is to make for the lost velocity range, and penetration when its fired out a 74-cm (29-in) barrel of a Barret AMR in comparison to the 114-cm (45 in) barrel of the Ma Deuce HMG."

"Mm," Ironwood nods in understanding.

"Armor piercing, weighted tip, fin stabilized," he listed off, "It'll take the head off of an Ursa Major at 1400 meters (1532 yards,) and they aren't cheap." He places them all back into their respective boxes and turns back to the thinking general.

"So what do you think?"

Ironwood remains silent for a while as he pondered over what he was presented. On one hand, his soldiers would be better equipped to handle heavier threats, but he also knew full well this would only escalate tensions between the kingdoms. This wasn't his intentions, but this was now the world he lived in and it was one he would have to learn to deal with, for better or for worse.

After what seemed like minutes, he slowly looks back to Malakery and with a blank face, he asks simply "How soon can you have them in full production?"

* * *

 **Codex:**

This file represents the current known equipment used by the Atlas Military. The Atlas Army may not have the largest military by population, but they have the largest budget almost outspending the other three combined. The five branches of the military are listed as such:

 **Atlas Army:** the largest of the five at almost half a million active duty personnel. The Army represents the backbone of Atlas's military might. **Active Duty Population: 472,000**

 **Atlas Navy:** represents the largest portion of defense spending and is often the showcase for Atlas's technological might. **Active Duty Population: 343,000**

 **Atlas Marine Corp:** famd for their ferocity and tenacity, they work in hand with the Navy, meaning, the Navy transports them to where they are needed and sets them loose on the enemy. **Active Duty Population: 182,000**

 **Atlas Expeditionary Force:** the second largest receiver of the budget and gives Atlas the ability to send troops anywhere in the world. The air force is incorporated into the AEF. **Active Duty** **Population: 319,000**

 **Atlas National Guard:** even a kingdom like Atlas must keep their heart protected. The National Guard is a combination of the other four branches with the focus placed on the defense of the homeland. **Active Duty Population: 270,000**

* * *

 **Current Weapons in Service:** These are all the known weapons used by the Atlas Military, the do not include civilian use or use in other kingdoms. This does not include grenades, mines, or other explosives.

Service Rifles

M1 Stoner **(M16)** : chambered in .223 Remmington, the M1A1 is the backbone of the Atlas military. High rate of fire, long range, low recoil, all combined with the most ergonomic platform in the world, makes it one of the most dependable rifles ever produced.

M2 Carbine **(M4)** : the little brother of the M1, the carbine trades off the longer barrel, range, and accuracy for easier handling. It has found favor amongst the airborne, recon, and other high mobility groups.

M3 Kalashnikov **(AK-12)** : rugged, cheap to produce, and simple to use. It just may be literally the most reliable firearm ever created. It can be put through enormous amounts of environmental punishment such as sand and clay, conditions that would make most other rifles jam, and yet, the M3 with just a simple pull of the charging handle, will continue on completely unabidded. It is this reliability that has huge found favor amongst the Marine Corp.

* * *

Side-arms

Sig Sauer Service Pistol **(P226)** : an incredibly reliable 9mm handgun often carried by Atlas Army, EF, and even their police force.

Colt .45 **(M1911)** : chamber in .45 ACP, the weapon sports an incredible amount of stopping power in a small package and is popularly amongst the Atlas Navy and Marines.

* * *

DMRs: high caliber, accruate rifles given to the best marksman in the platoon.

M14 EBR

M15 EMR **(M39)** : two variations of the Springfield, they both offer a semi-automatic sniper system. The EBR is used by the Army while the EMR is used by the Marines. Both chambered in .308.

M16 SASS **(M110)** : the M16 is a sniper system built on the same platform as the stoner. It offers the same ergonomics and customization.

M17 Sword: the SASS' bigger brother, chambers in .338 Lapua Magnum.

* * *

Sniper Rifles: high precision rifles that require heavy training, only given out to soldiers who are actually snipers.

Remington Long Action **(M24)** : incredible accuracy, high power, and long range makes the Long Action one of the most favored sniper systems on the planet. This is baked by both the Atlas EF and the Atlas Police. The long action allows the rifle to be adapted for larger calibers, popular for civilian hunters.

Remington Short Action **(M40)** : built and used by the Marines and Army from the ground up, it features a short bolt making just for firing .308.

Mcmillan TAC .300 Win. Mag.: a heavy version of the Long Action for longer ranges.

AWM (Arctic Warfare Magnum): a high precision rifle chambered in .338 Lapua Mag., most commonly used by Army or Marine snipers.

CheyTac Intervention: chambered in .408 Cheytac, it is the most premier long ranged sniper system to date, it's simple and ergonomic. It is technically not in service, but it will be seen used by Atlas personnel.

Mcmillan TAC .50: a reliable, extreme long range sniper system at half the price of the intervention for the same weight.

* * *

LMGs

M4 SAW **(M249 SAW)** : a belt fed, open bolt, machine gun chambered in the same round as the Stoner giving the squad and an incredible amount of firepower in a small pakedge.

M5 RPK: basically just an M3 with a heavier barrel and a drum magazine, the RPK offers the Marines a reliable, automatic weapons platform at half the weight of a SAW.

GPMGs (GP for General Purpose)

M6 Confetti Maker **(M240)** : chambered in .308, and at a cyclic rate of 650 rpm, the Confetti Maker is a truly devastating weapon that can be mounted on almost any platform. It is most commonly seen in the hands of the EF.

M7 Pig **(M60)** : it sacrifices rate of fire and accuracy of the M6 for a lighter frame and smaller profile. The Marines have affectionately named it the Pig, for its reliability.

M8 Buzzsaw **(M3)** : the Buzzsaw sports one of the fastest rates of fire in the world at 1200 rounds per minute. I single burst will send a volley of 25 rounds down range offering completely denial of an area, and completely suppression of a target making it suitable for the Army.

* * *

Crew Served Weapons: these weapons cannot be operated outside of either being mounted or without a team of operators.

Ma Deuce **(M2 Browning)** : an HMG chambered in .50 BMG, arguably the most popular mounts on a vehicle due to the .50's pure stopping power, range, and penetration.

M19 40mm **(Mk. 19)** : high explosive 40mm dust grenades make leveling buildings all the more easier.

M12 General Electric Minigun: it doesn't matter if you can't aim, at 3000+ rounds a minute, it won't matter.

M13 TOW Launcher: wire guided anti-tank missile with an operational range of 4,000-ms.

L16 81mm mortar: has a maximum range of 5.8km and requires a crew of thee to operate.

* * *

Heavy Weapons

Barrett .50 Cal.: a high powered weapons system, designed for destruction with many uses, just so happens it makes a great sniper rifle too.

Carl Gustav Recoilless Rifle: 84mm launcher with multiple uses ranging from anti-vehicle to anti-building.

Mk 29 SMAW: a reusable rocket launcher similar other now out of service RPG.

FGM-120 Javelin: a man-portable fire-and-forget anti-tank missle capable of knocking out most armor and even low flying aircraft in some cases.

M50 FLASH: a reloadable, four round, shoulder mounted rocket launcher. It fires four, 66 mm incendiary rockets either loaded with white phosphorus for fine dust depending on the mission. It was designed to replace the old flamethrowers.

* * *

Launchers

M21: a 40mm grenade launcher that can either be used as an underslung weapon attached to another rifle, or as a separate weapons system.

M18 Thumper: a single shot grenade launcher that offers a longer range than the M21

M26 MASS: a 12 gauge shotgun that follows the same principle as the M21

M39 Milkor: a semi-automatic grenade launcher with a six round revolving chamber.

FIM-92 Stinger MANPADS: a handheld, lightweight, medium ranged, anti-aircraft missile system. It fires a 3kg heat seeking warhead at a range of up to an altitude of 4.7-kms.

Mk 29 SMAW: a lightweight.

M27 LAW: lightweight single use rocket launcher used by the Marines.

AT4: like the LAW but fires an 84 mm HEAT rocket andi s used by the Army.

FGM-121 SRAW: a lightweight single use version of the Javelin used by the EF.

* * *

Shotguns: shotguns are really used and are more commonly found amongst police forces.

Remington 870

Mossberg 590: both of these weapons see very limited use, mostly used by infantry as a door breaching device.

AA-12: a fully automatic shotgun that is completely devastating in close-quarters and offers amazing crowd control. Mostly used by military police at checkpoints.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I don't think updates are gonna get faster guys, college is starting to pick up, but I'll do my best. Also** _ **Borderlands 3**_ **is out and it needs playing. I have read through some of my reviews who are offering some ideas for what I could do to the equipment. While I don't frankly agree with them, they did bring up a good idea. I need a reason to have some of the equipment modified in someway, starting with the rounds being used. I'm not going to do a full out rework, but slight things here and there aren't something too far out of left field. I'll come up with an outline of the current equipment, weapons, and vehicles of the Atlas Expeditionary Force, the new branch being created, sometime in the following chapters. See you guys soon, Big brother is watching.**


	16. Terminal

**Author's Note: Okay, so I didn't expect to go an extra month and a half without updating. Sorry guys, midterms month, I've been swamped with a bunch of stuff plus my unit is getting ready for deployment, I'm not going, but they still want me and the other guys around just in case something happens, my brain was fried all this month. I managed to finish this piece for a while and I can not for the life of me remember why I never posted it. My unit decided that it was okay for use to have two drills back to back with barely a week in between, and also during the week cutting into our civilian lives. For anyone somewhat curious in joining any branch in the military, don't do reserves or guard, I don;t feel trying to balance my civilian life with military life one weekend of the month is worth it. I wish I had went active duty, now I'm forced to stay stateside while all my friends are deploying to Kuwait in a month. Oh, also, yeah I am not making up a new calendar, we're just gonna stick with the classic Gregorian style, same with the days. I hope it comes out whenever it comes out and you're still willing to read. Just a warning though, Weiss is going to seem a little OC in the coming chapters, possibly much more depending on who reads this. I'll address this at the end of the chapter.**

 **Edit: So let this be a lesson for anyone writing anything period, spell-checker is NOT a substitute for actual proof-reading. You would think I would have learned this by now, but I am very lazy, so this is one of the few times I have the motivation to edit my chapters.**

* * *

Terminal

So there they sat, a single platoon in huddle formation around CPT Anderson and MSG Senaviev addressing the small group. The information given was simple, Anderson had confidence that his group could put together the details, he knew had had to at least go over the main points since their group now had one extra addition.

"And…." Anderson flips back through his notes, he looks back to the group, "That's it, any questions?" Anderson glances at each of the faces of his squad before coming to a stop at the last person. "Poledina?" he calls out.

The rest of the group turn their heads and see the childishly curious redhead had her attention drawn completely somewhere else.

"Poledina," he repeats a little more sternly.

Kowalski lightly jabs at her side.

"Hm?" she inquires, looking back to the group, "Yes sir?"

"You get all that?" he asks.

"Yes sir!" she chirps.

"Really?" Anderson raises an eyebrow as if not believing her.

"Yep!" she nods.

"What did I say then?" he asks.

"You're setting us free for the morning and you want us to meet up at the entrance of the auditorium ten minutes prior to the orientation," she replies soundly. "0950," she quickly asks as Anderson jus began to move his mouth.

He closes his mouth and nods, satisfied by the response, "Alright then." He looks to Senaviev and nods.

Senaviev steps forward and adds one final note, "Our shipping container is in Dock 13, if you want anything taken out for initiation tomorrow, follow Specialist Kowalski and get it signed out now. We do not know when we will get another chance, best get it done as soon as possible."

He turns back to Anderson and gives him a nod.

Anderson looks one last time to his team before ordering "Fallout."

The small team then shuffled out, quickly scattered among the crowd save for Weiss who stayed behind to talk to Anderson. Malarkey was in the lounge near the smoking area, which unsurprisingly, wasn't very full, seems like most teens just didn't like to smoke. Penny immediately started from the group down the aisle, dragging poor Kowalski along like a dog on a leash. Basuda was found sitting nearby reading a newspaper while Streicher and Senaviev were in the cafe.

* * *

Weiss was feeling a bit nostalgic as she stared out the window at the city of Vale below her.

"Used to come here back when I was still touring," Weiss comments. "Still as vibrant as ever."

"Were you popular here?" asks Anderson curiously.

"Well, I was no world star, but I did have an audience," she replies. "And apparently a small dedicated fan base since I still get people running up to me asking for autographs several years after I stopped performing."

"You never did tell me why you stopped, you seemed to enjoy it in your videos," Andseron points out, he turns to her and smiles "You were also pretty good...but don't tell anyone I told you that."

With a slight blush, she chuckles and replies, "I was never that into it. Sure I enjoy singing, but professionally?" She shook her head, "Was more of my dad's idea anyway, besides, if I actually went down that career path, where would go all the time I spend training with you guys?"

"That reminds me," Anderson mumbles and turns to her, "Robert and Max took you up the Alps, how'd it go?"

"You mean we climbed up the alps," Weiss snorted, "We spent two weeks training in that tundra, and finally, four days from the end, Robert comes to me and says "Hey, we're going on a little walk!"" Then through gritted teeth, she adds "Two mountains, two thousand meters climb, and a 30 kilometer ruck later..." and then finishes with a long exacerbated groan.

"But you made it to the end," Anderson adds, "That's what counts, and you brought something back down as proof."

"Edelweiss," Weiss whispers.

She recalled the white flower that even though looked delicate, it could endure the harsh winters at those altitudes and only blossomed at the end of summer between June and September. She especially remembered picking said flowers and bringing them back down the mountain before presenting them to Basuda. Climbing that mountain was one of the most physically and mentally taxing things she had ever done, and through her power alone, she endured. She wasn't alone either, Streicher, Maxim, the other personnel, and a small group of trainees were there as well, every step of the way. When she got to the top, she picked the flower, turned around, and gazed into the valley below her. She was not only able to see the camp, but entire complex as well, it took her breath away as she gazed across the land. She stared for a few moments longer before she followed her group back down the mountain, and when she made it back, she broke down, crying tears of joy as she came to terms with what she had just accomplished. Snapping back to present time, she looked over to Anderson and nodded.

"I need to stress this," Anderson smirks, "You had no reason to do that training with us, you could have stuck with your previous trainers and still have been just as prepared for Beacon, yet you insisted and never once had a doubt about what you wanted to do."

"Well of course," Weiss replies matter-of-factly, attempting to push off the praise, "I-I couldn't have done it without any of you guys, and I wasn't the only one who made it..."

"This should probably be a good time to mention, you had completed the course for Mountain Warfare School, as well as the EF One Station Unit Training that all the other grunts had to go through with that four month period you did with us prior," Anderson smiles.

Weiss's eyebrows quirked upwards, yes she had been aware that those courses were supposed to be the testbed for the future infantry, but she wasn't expected to be included as part of their test group, she was just there of her own accord, and did everything with them.

"You have your beret?" asks Anderson.

Weiss nods and pulls out a black, wool beret that she had time stakingly shaved, and shaped to naturally fit and conform to her head. Anderson reaches into his pack and presents a pin to her. The pin consisted of a green circle, placed in the center of a gold square, with the words "Mountain" were written above it, and in the green circle, sat a white, etched drawing of the very flower she had brought back to camp.

"I-I don't…." she was speechless. "I can't..."

Over the past three years they had lived with her family, she had grown close enough to call them family, and though she never noticed, they had a massive influence on her. They changed things about how she saw the world, her opinions, and even how she dressed to a certain extent. Long gone was her flowing, knee long ponytail, in its place was a neatly tied bun, she had learned the hard way about the issues of long hair when it was almost pulled off in a sparring session. The instructor had stated that rules were not applied in combat, so they shouldn't be applied in training either, Weiss had responded soundly by kicking her opponent in his crotch.

"Weiss, you don't just do four and a half months of licensed training and classes without expecting to earn something once you complete them," Anderson smiled.

Without another thought, he took the beret and pinned the pin onto the blank flash. He took one last look before handing back to her.

"Now it's not official, technically it's only honorary if anything," Anderson quickly added, "I mean we still have to do all the paperwork, issue you your uniform, make you swear the oath...and tell your father, but just know that this is yours to have should you ever say yes and the pin is yours to keep."

This may have seemed something arbitrary to other people, but for Weiss, this meant everything. This was a solid confirmation that she had been accepted as part of the group, and they all saw her as one of their own. Not that they didn't already, but Weiss felt this made it official.

"You don't have to answer right away, give it some serious thought since this is a rather big life commitment you would have to make," he tells her, "But other than that, you earned it, wear it with pride."

Weiss was going to say something but was interrupted by a blonde boy who attempted to make a rush for the trash can. He didn't make it and ended up vomiting on the floor much to the disgust of those around him.

Anderson's eyes widen slightlyand he groans "Oh," he reaches down and traps his med-bag. "Duty calls," he says to Weiss before running off to the boy.

* * *

"Look!" Penny cried excitedly, "Beacon is coming into view!"

She rushes to the window dragging behind her partner.

"Ow...easy on the arms Penny," Kowalski cried.

At the same time, another hyperactive ginger arrived next to them, also dragging behind her partner. The two quickly took notice of each other and Kowalski swore he was tripping when he saw what happened next. The girl got dead silent as she stared at Penny, and she stared right back. The two maintained perfect eye contact before the girl raised her hand up. Penny, completely fascinated by the specimen before her brought up her own hand mirroring the girl's. The two moved their hands around in unison before touching them together and….

"Salutations," Penny finally greets. "I am Penny."

"Nora! The queen of pancakes and sloths!" she boisterously declared. "Do you like pancakes?" she asks innocently.

"Never had them before," Penny replies honestly, just because she can eat doesn't mean she does, or needs to.

Nora lets out a horrified gasp and grasps the cheeks of one confused Penny.

"Noooo!" Nora cries in anguish, "Pancakes are the most holiest of food. This mistake must be rectified!"

As the two broke out into an active conversation Kowalski looks on in morbid fascination before fearfully mumbling.

"There's two of them."

He then felt a tap on his shoulder, he turns and faces the other boy. Kowalski was faced with an oriental looking man, he also took notice of the boy's...feminine atributes, also he had a strand of hair that was dyed pink. Kowalski wasn't one to judge, after all he has known grown men who have managed to pull off pink, but questions were indeed raised.

"You too?" the boy asks.

Kowalski looks over at the chattering gingers, he looks back to the boy and nods.

"Nathantiel," he introduces himself and reaches in for a handshake, "Call me Nathan."

The boy looks down at the hand before accepting it, smiling, and responding "Ren."

With that, the two commiserated together as their companions' laughter and ramblings filled the air.

* * *

For Ruby, today had been a dream come true, she was now on a ship heading to Beacon, the academy of her dreams. She was now one step closer to becoming a huntress ...now if only she could get her older sister to stop talking about it.

"I'm so proud of you!" Yang proudly beamed, releasing poor Ruby from her crushing embrace.

"Really sis, it was nothing," Ruby sheepishly replies while rubbing the back of her neck, mostly from pain.

"What do you mean?" Yang scoffs, "It was incredible! Everyone at Beacon is going to think you're the bee's knees."

"I don't want to be the "bee's knees", okay? I don't want to be any kind of knees! I just want to be a normal girl with normal knees," Ruby retorted.

"What's with you?" Yang inquired, gently nudging her sister with her elbow, "Aren't you excited?"

Ruby shrugged "Of course I'm excited... I just…" she lets out a tired sigh, "I got moved ahead two years. I don't want people to think I'm special or anything."

Ruby soon found herself wrapped in a another one-armed hugged as Yang laughed "But you are special."

Yang's attention was soon drawn to an animated newscast on the Vale News Network. Yang soon found her attention placed upon reports of more faunus protests followed by a report of the very robbery that Ruby had stopped. As the newscaster continued through the report, she brought up footage someone managed to capture on the event.

"Hey Ruby it's you," Yang pointed out gleefully. "Kick his ass!" she cheered as she watched security camera footage of Ruby swinging herself into the group with her scythe.

The footage eventually went on to reveal Malarkey, the one who was with her that night, she then unconsciously reached for her scroll as if she was expecting a call.

"Who's that?" Yang curiously inquired.

"Just…." Ruby searched for the right words, "A friend."

Yang slyly raised an eyebrow, "My, my Rubes, we aren't even _at_ Beacon yet and you already got a boyfriend?"

From there, Ruby's face got about as red as her name sake before she sputtered out "What...no! No! Yang I literally just met him that day!"

Yang snorts and shrugs "Whatever, I saw the way you were looking at him."

"YANG!" Ruby cries in embarrassment.

"So who is he anyway?" Yang asks curiously.

"I think he was from the Atlas, specifically that new military academy they set up," Ruby replies while looking over his academic profile on her scroll.

Yang looks over the photo "Atlas huh? I can definitely see it with all the military grade firepower he's carrying," Yang mused, "Don't recognize that uniform though."

"Yeah…." Ruby mumbles in agreement.

"What did he say?" asks Yang.

"I never asked," Ruby responds, she then adds "Never got the chance."

"Well clearly he left an impression on you if you gave him your number," Yang smirks.

"Yang," Ruby groaned.

"I'm just messing with you Ruby," Yang laughs, "I swear you make it too easy sometimes." She then says "Hey if you ever need me to rough him up for ya, let me know." Yang threw up her arms and crouched into a boxing stance, "I'll give him the ol' one-two."

Ruby deadpans and replies "Sure thing Yang."

As the two came to a stop at the observation deck, they came across another Atlas student in the same uniform as Malarkey's.

"Hey, that guy has the same uniform as your boyfriend, maybe he knows him," Yang giggled, lightly nudging Ruby to go and talk to him.

"He's not my boyfriend Yang," Ruby chides defensively, she then looks over and adds "And besides, I think he's busy."

Yang gave the teen another look and noticed he was standing by another blonde teen in a black and orange hoodie and shoulder pads. The blonde was sitting down clutching his stomach and his face was a good shade a green. They even managed to catch the tail end of the conversation.

"Let me get this straight," Anderson began, "You knew you had a history of airsickness, and yet you still thought it was a good idea to climb into an aircraft without any medication whatsoever?"

The miserable teen nodded slowly as the other grumbled something under his breath. The uniformed teen pulls out a patch like object and hands it to the sick blonde.

"The patch I just gave you should last until we land, but here's another just in case." He then gives him a stern look and says "The next time you know you're about to go flying. It would be in your best interest to visit the nearest infirmary and acquire some air sickness pills."

"Yes sir," the blonde moans.

The other teen gives him one last look before walking away.

"I'll be back to check on you," he says simply.

Yang rolls her eyes and chuckles "Well…I guess the view isn't for everyone."

Ruby let's put a sigh and adds "Yeah, it was nice while it lasted." Ruby watches as the ship drew closer to Beacon before saying aloud "I wonder who we're gonna meet."

"Well…." Yang drawls out, "Other than your future…." Ruby shoots her a death glare while she cheekily grinned back, "Fffrrrriend, they'll hopefully be better than vomit boy."

The two took a few more steps before Yang's foot landed in a wet substance that made a resounding splash. Yang froze instantly and slowly started to put two and two together but was still silently praying it was just her imagination.

"Um Yang?" Ruby nervously asks.

'Damnit Ruby,' thought Yangas she shakily turns to face her sister.

"You just stepped in vomit."

Yang turns pale before she inhales deeply and let a loud, panicked scream.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Yes, Penny is going to be apart of the group, I'll work on her replacement for her team back in Atlas, but I think siunce I featured her a bit prominently in the last chapters, it would be wasteful if I didn't bring her along. When addressing Weiss, in my opinion, there's no way for my characters to live in the same house with Weiss's family without their views having an impact on how she views the world. Especially when two of the characters are fanus and her entitled, and spoiled attitude she had in the first season, she'll still be prideful, and there are going to be reasons why she has her views towards certain groups, but she won't hate fanus as a whole. I'm sure she'll still look condiscendingly at Ruby though, I don't think that's going to change.** **I'm going to address these things also in the coming chapters. I personally believe Weiss would act differently with people she is close to as compared to meeting brand new people, particualrly with intrductins like her first interaction with Ruby. Midterms are coming to a close so I pray that I have the diligence to make more chapters. Alright I've gone on long enough, thanks for reading, I hope you keep reading, I'll be out with another soon I hope.**


	17. A Shining Beacon

**Author's Note: Oh shit, I just noticed, this story is over a year old, thanks for reading for as long as you guys have, it has been a real pleasure writing this. I swear, the amount of dumb ideas that passed through my mind makes me glad I take time to at least go over my chapters, even if I don't proofread to check for grammar errors sometimes. Some of my bad ideas include: adding soundtracks into the story, not that I am against it, but this is a story, not a script so I don't think it would fit, that one time I wanted one of my characters to use an M4 Beowulf, which sounds cool, but once you really look into it, no sane person would think that is practical.**

 **Granted, an M4 rifle chambered to fire rounds that resemble the old .45/70 Govt. sounds like a fun time, I don't know any soldier who thinks using a rifle that is limited to only a team round magazine in combat, at least ten rounds before it becomes too impractical and unwieldy. So anyway, on to the story, I'm gonna use the same title as the episode since I can't decide anything better.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

The Shining Beacon

Senaviev stepped off the airship ramp and landed onto the ground. Upon taking his first step, he immediately began taking in his surroundings, before him lay a magnificent, white ornate structure. The structure was simply massive in scale, Senaviev figured it was even bigger than the Kremlin back on Earth. Without further thought, he hefted his DP-28 onto his shoulders, and lifted up his helmet by the straps before walking forward. Senaviev was not a dense person person, far from it actually, he without doubt noticed the stares he got from the students around him. He paid them no mind, he was confident in himself and his abilities and that's all that really mattered. As he was walking, a voice calls out from behind him.

"Goddamn Hoss!" the voice calls out, "Where'd you dig that relic up?"

Senaviev looks to his right and spots Streicher cheekily grinning as he walks past.

He nods and replies casually, much to the shock of those watching, "From under a lot of dead bodies." He then muses to himself, "They all looked surprised."

Basuda rolls his eyes and groans "Same joke every goddamn time," as he walks by the two.

* * *

As Ruby took her first few steps out of the ship, she found herself enraptured by the pure beauty of Beacon. She stood there completely frozen as she gazed up at the porcelain tower before her. The pictures had nothing on the real thing, and here she was as a future student looking at her future home for the next four years.

"Wow," Yang breathes, she crosses her arms and comments "The view from Vale's got nothing on this!"

Ruby nods in agreement, "Yea-" Ruby suddenly goes wide-eyed and squeals as a student walks by her, "Ohmygosh, sis! That kid's got a collapsible staff! And she's got a fire sword!" By now she was basically jumping at anyone who passes by. "And he has a tripod mounted-" ***wink***

At this point Yang decided to step in and firmly pull back on Ruby's cloak.

"Woah okay," Yang laughs sheepishly, "Easy there Ruby, they're just weapons."

"Just weapons?" Ruby cried incredulously, "They're an extension of ourselves!" she lectured, "They're a part of us!" Then shifted from serious back to childish and excitedly cries "And they're _so_ cool!"

"Well, why can't you swoon over your own weapon?" Yang questioned, "Aren't you happy with it?"

"Of course I'm happy with Crescent Rose!" she promptly pulls it out and transforms it, going it a good swing to emphasize her point. She then collapses it back down and adds "I just really like seeing new ones. It's like meeting new people ...but better."

Yang rolls her eyes and retorts "You mean better because when you talk to weapons, weapons don't tend to talk back."

"W-what?" Ruby unconvincingly snorted, "No, of course not." As Yang hardens her gaze, Ruby lowers her gaze and twiddles her fingers as she half-heartedly says "Alright fine, maybe."

Yang lets out a snort and playfully pulls Ruby's hood over her face.

"Ruby, come on," Yang smiled, "Why don't you go try and make some friends of your own?"

"But…." Ruby takes off her hood and shyly asks "Why would I need friends if I have you?"

"Well…." Yang drawls, this was quickly turning into a conversation that she knows for a fact she has had with her little sister in the past.

She then spotted a crowd heading in their direction and she hatched a plan, after years of trying to get Ruby to branch out and meet new people. She loved her sister no doubt, and Yang knew she was going to get an earful from her later, but really she was out of options at this point.

"Actually, my friends are here. Gotta go catch up. 'Kay, see ya, bye!"

Almost as quick as she came, she supplanted herself into the crow and left leaving poor Ruby standing by herself.

"Who are you again?" a teen asks as they leave.

" _Shutup!_ " Yang hisses as the group moves away with Yang in tow.

Poor Ruby was left dizzy-eyed in the dust as she tried to ask a fury of final questions.

"Wait, where are you going?! Are we supposed to go to our dorms? Where are our dorms? Do we have dorms?" cried poor Ruby, she stopped for a moment still reeling from the crowd, "I don't know what I'm doing…."

"Hey!" a sharp female voice cried out.

She then loses her balance and feels herself start to fall backwards only to be suddenly stopped. She felt a pair of large, muscular arms wrap around her and slowly push her upright.

She her a deep, familiar voice let out a slight chuckle "Woah, easy there."

Ruby quickly turns and looks, her eyes widen and her jaw drops as her eyes traveled up a set of a military uniform and landed on a familiar face, covered by cowboy looking hat.

"Evan?" she breathes.

Recognition flashed in his eyes but before he could answer, another voice, this one soft, but stern rang out. He let go of her and turned to look behind him giving a good view of what Ruby almost fell into. Behind him sat a luggage carrier stacked high with cases labeled "CAUTION." On of the cases had nearly fallen over and a girl in a white combat skirt, and a white hair-bun tucked under a black beret was moving back in place. To her right was the medic from the airship who is providing assistance to the girl, he had a name tag that read Anderson, and finally, standing awkwardly off to the side was the blond boy who threw up on the ship who was there for some reason.

The girl in white waved him away saying "No, Grant it's fine, I got it."

"You sure?" he asks.

The girl nodded and the boy turns to face Ruby, she instantly swallowed a lump in her throat and began sweating a little as the boy frowned as he began staring her down.

"Are you alright?" the boy asks.

When he spoke he had a soft but firm tone and it felt calming.

"Huh," Ruby blink, she was as frozen as a deer in the headlights. She quickly nods, not wanting to upset him further.

He narrows his eyes and sternly says "Look, you need to be more careful." He points at the cases, "These cases are loaded with dust, and last I checked, dust isn't exactly the most stable thing to work with. Just because these are properly stored and labeled doesn't mean I am interested in testing that out. Had one of those went off-"

"Grant take an easy on her," the girl in white reasoned, "You saw how the crowd nearly trampled her."

"Sorry," Ruby squeaked out.

Anderson's eyes began to soften and he lets out a sigh, "It's fine, just try to exercise a little more caution in the future."

Ruby rapidly nods. She then bows her head slightly, 'Not a very good start,' she thought.

She then felt a reassuring pat on her shoulder and she heard Evan say "Hey don't let him scare you too hard, he's not usually this stiff, he's just a stickler for safety."

The girl in white snorts and pushes the boy to the side, "Only to counteract your laziness, then again, that isn't too far from what your rank is known for is it Malarkey?"

"Hey!" Malarkey cried defensively, "E4 Mafia represent!" **AU: I'm pretty sure that joke just went over the head at least half of my readers, I'm sure someone in the reviews will be nice enough to explain it.**

The girl rolls her eyes before turning to Ruby, "Evan is this her?" she asks.

Malarkey nodded "Guys this is Ruby." Ruby waves shyly, "She's the one I was the one who I helped stop the robbery a week ago."

"That was very brave of you," the girl commented causing Ruby to smile before adding "Also very reckless."

Ruby frowns and she sees Anderson quirk his head slightly.

"Trying to take on known criminal like that," she scolds, "You're lucky Evan called the police before jumping in to help you, who knows how long it would take for them to arrive."

"She'll fit right in," Anderson spoke finally, he then asks Ruby "How old are you by the way? You seem…." he glanced around, "A bit younger than the general demographic."

"15," Ruby shyly answers.

"And you got moved forward two years," he comments. "You're not the only don't worry," he reassured, "There's always a small group who get pushed ahead, hell, we even got a guy your age who came with us and Malarkey is 16, only a year older than you."

"Really?" Ruby's eyes lift as she looks over to Evan.

"Late birthday," Evan simply answers.

"Listen," Ruby bowed her head to Weiss, "Sorry for almost falling into your luggage, m-my sister kinda ditched me and I got left in the dust."

The girl looks over to Anderson before looking back to Ruby and smiling warmly.

"Older sister?" she smiles sympathetically, Ruby nods, "I can relate."

"This is Grant," the girl introduced, "I'm Weiss."

Ruby's eyes widened in shock, they darted from the girl in white, to the SDC logo on the luggage and it finally dawned on her.

"I see the gears turning," Anderson whispers to Weiss causing her to giggle.

"You're Weiss Schnee!" Ruby cires in a panicked voice. "Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh," she cried with teary eyes, "I almost exploded a princess's luggage!"

Both Anderson and Malarkey start cracking up upon hearing this, Weiss slaps Anderon's shoulder with a scowl on her face, but before she could correct Ruby, she was interrupted.

"It's heiress, actually."

Everyone looks over and sees a girl in a black buttoned vest with coattails, topped with a black bow on her head. Then again, they could be ears, Ruby swore she saw them twitch and she wasn't exactly hiding them. Ruby wanted to ask, but then decided against it.

"Infamous for its controversial labor forces and questionable business partners," the girl breathed, "Has supposedly turned a new leaf over the past few years and is now one of the largest supporters for the passing of the Fanus Civil Rights Bill, better late than never."

Weiss quirks an eyebrow before inquiring "You seem well researched, are you an activist?"

"Something like that," she replies, "Blake Belladonna."

"Pleasure," Weiss politely nods.

Blake turns to the Anderson "Now, I don't believe I've met you."

"Grant Anderson," he replies.

Blake's mouth quirked upwards slightly and replies "Pleasure to meet you. I'm sure we'll get further acquainted as the year goes on."

"See you around," Anderson says.

Blake nods to the group and leaves.

"What an...interesting encounter," Weiss comments as she observed the retreating girl. "Any idea who she is?"

"Well she said she was an activist," Malarkey replies, "She's probably just part of a group and wanted to meet you guys before passing judgment."

"Does that mean I now got an article about Weiss and I too look forward to in the coming week?" Anderson sighs.

Weiss rolls her eyes and smirks, "Wouldn't be the first time." She turns and says, "We should get to the auditorium."

As the two turn and start heading down the path Malarkey calls out after them.

"Actually, you guys go ahead," they turn back and face him, "I'm gonna hang back and catch up with Ruby, don't worry, I know the way."

Without hesitation, Anderson replied, "Don't be late." His eyes suddenly widen and he adds, "Oh, and since you're hanging back," he grabbed the arm of the blonde who was still standing there like a lost puppy and pushed him Malakarky's way, "Can you look after vomit boy for me?"

Ruby lets out a snicker, Weiss wore a bemused smirk, and Malarkey looked as though he was asked to wash the driveway of the motor-pool while it was raining. **AU: Yes that's actually a thing, NOT fun!**

* * *

"All I'm saying is that motion sickness is a much more common problem than people let on!" the boy argued.

"Yeah, and you're still an idiot for climbing onto an aircraft without air sickness pills," Malarkey retorts. "Anyway, you must have pissed off the CPT, because he didn't hesitate with your new call-sign."

"Wait CPT?" he asks.

"Yeah I've been wondering about that too," Ruby jumps in, "Isn't he a bit young to be an officer."

"And aren't you two years younger than the average freshman here at this school?" Malarkey smirks.

"Oh, right," Ruby blushes. 'Guess Atlas stats young,' thought Ruby.

Malarkey turns to the boy, "I'm Evan Malarkey and the girl in the cloak is Ruby Rose."

The blonde scratches his head and asks "Isn't Malarkey slang for bull-"

"Yes," Malarkey groans, "And that was my nickname during basic training, trust me when I tell you that you weren't the only one with a dumb nickname. Almost no one has a cool call-sign in the military, the harder you try to make something cool, the more likely you'll end up with something dumb like "cotton balls."" He then points at Ruby, "Like her, her name is crater-face."

"Hey!" Ruby snaps at Malarkey, "I didn't even blow up."

Malarkey feigned an apologetic look, "Oh right sorry, I ment "Red Barrel.""

Janue snickers while Ruby narrows her eyes and cutely growls "How is that any better?"

"Because red barrels don't blow up unless you shoot them," Malarkey reasoned.

Ruby started pouting and grumbles "Whatever PVT Bullcrap."

This made Malakry laugh and playfully patted her on the head, "See? Now you're learning."

Malarkey's cheery attitude made Ruby crack and she began to smile back.

The blonde laughs and says anyway, "Names Jaune Arc! Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue-ladies love it!"

Malarkey starts snickering again while Ruby deadpans and asks "Do they?"

"They will!" Jaune stuttered, "Well, I-I hope they will. My mom always says that... Never mind."

Malarkey rolls his eyes as he started to feel a particular need set in before he pulls out his lighter.

"Is it alright if I smoke around you guys?" he asks awkwardly.

Jaune shrugs and Ruby nods. They just kind of watch as he lights one up and takes a drag. An awkward silence continues to permeate the group until Ruby decided to pull out her weapon.

"So….I got this thing!" she pulls out Crescent Rose and stabs it into the ground.

Jaune's eyes widened in shock, "Whoa! Is that a scythe?"

"It's also a customizable high-impact sniper rifle!" she beams.

"A-wha…?" blinked Jaune.

"It's also a gun," Ruby explained.

"High-impact…." Malarkey thought for a moment, "Is that how you were able to fling yourself like a rag-doll the other night?"

"Yep," Ruby chirped.

Malarkey stared blankly for a moment before asking "How do you not pulverize your arms firing it off as much as you do?"

Ruby let's out a giggle and explains "Well firstly, I angle it in a way so that the majority of the blast energy is transferred into the ground. Sure my arms are sore after a fight, but it's nothing my aura won't heal."

Malarkey nodded, satisfied with the explanation.

"What's it chambered in?" asks Malarkey.

"12.7 mm," Ruby replies nonchalantly making Malarkey's eyes widen in surprise.

Ruby quickly caught on and added "As in 12.7 mm dust rounds, not .50 BMG! Completely

different round."

"What's the difference?" asks Jaune.

"A different round for a different purpose," Malarkey chuckles. "Let's keep it at that."

"Dust rounds are one thing, but I don't think I could fire a .50 BMG rifle without dislocating my shoulder," Ruby laughs.

"What do you mean, i-it's a bullet right?" Jaune asks, "It kills things, that's all you need to know...right?"

Both Ruby and Malakey give him a deadpan stare that basically told Jaune how naive he had just sounded.

Ruby turns to Malarkey and asks "Hey Evan what do you got?" and points to the machine-gun slung to his side.

As he brought his weapon into their view, Ruby was practically salivating.

"This is the Confetti Maker," Malarkey explained, "She is a gas operated, open-bolt, air-cooled, belt-fed, general purpose machine-gun chambered in .308 Winchester. She's a little on the heavy side, weighing in at 10 kilograms…."

"10?!" Ruby asked in disbelief, "That's a full _four_ kilograms heavier than my Sweetheart!" she took another look at the weapon and mumbles, "On a weapon that looks kinda smaller no less."

"Well I assume Crescent Rose is made out of an aluminum alloy right?" asks Malarkey.

"Well, the internals and major components are of course steel, but the main overall frame is made of aluminum alloy, uh ...6061-t6 if I remember correctly," she replies.

"Isn't aluminum weak?" asks Jaune curiously.

"On its own yes," replies Ruby, "But when combined with other materials to form an alloy, you get this strong and durable material that may not be as strong a steel, but it is still a fraction of the weight. It was the only way I could get my Sweetheart to her current size without it being dramatically heavy on the budget I had." She shrugs, "I mean, if I could afford it, I would have made her out of high strength polymers, titanium, and carbon fiber but, you know how things go."

Malarkey chuckles "Yeah, the bright side is that the aluminum will probably help keep maintenance costs down whenever you need to replace parts."

"Yeah I guess so," Ruby muses.

"It's funny you brought up the weight," Malarkey comments, "Apparently the Atlas military thought it was too heavy as well, the production model is actually 2.5 kilograms lighter."

"You sold this to the military?" asked Jaune.

"Well it was a contract," Malarkey explains, "But anyway, with a rate of fire set at 650 rounds per minute, the Confetti Maker is an absolutely devastating piece of equipment, the weight serves as proof of its reliability and actually helps soften the majority of the recoil. I know she's not the prettiest thing to look at, but in my time, I've never seen her jam on me, even after going through weeks of sand, I can still effectively engage targets upwards to 1,000 meters ...albeit prone and mounted on a tripod, but you get the point."

Ruby lets out a whistle, "I think she's beautiful, most people nowadays prefer cosmetics over functionality, it's rare to see someone coming from the complete opposite end.

"I do carry a short-barreled 12 gauge, a tomahawk, and a .45 pistol that can transform in a trench knife, but those are for emergencies and as far as anyone is concerned," Malarkey with one hand, lifts the machinegun up and places onto his shoulder, "This is my weapon."

"Now that you mention it…." Ruby chuckles bashfully, "I guess I did go a little overboard when designing mine."

"Wait a second," Jaune asks "You guys built your weapons?"

Malarkey and Ruby share a glance before Malarkey replies, "Yeah, most people make their own weapons, how we create works as a reflection of our personalities."

"Didn't you build yours?" asks Ruby.

Jaune stood there blankly for a few seconds before, "O-oh um ...well ...mine was a hand-me-down." He pulls his sword out from his scabbard, "My great-great-grandfather used it to fight in the war."

"Can I see it?" asks Malarky.

Jaune nods and hands the blade off to him before he goes about inspecting it.

"I also have a shield too." he fumbles with the scabbard as it retracts off his arm and expands. "The shield gets smaller, so when I get tired of carrying it, I can just... put it away…"

"But... wouldn't it weigh the same?" Ruby asks skeptically.

Jaune sighs dejectedly "Yeah ...it does."

"Sounds more like a family heirloom to me!" Ruby laughs, "Well, I like it! Not many people have an appreciation for the classics these days."

"Yeah ...classics," Jayne laughs while watching Malarkey take a few swings.

"Well, for an heirloom, it's amazingly well maintained," Malarkey comments, he balances the sword on his finger, "It's perfectly balanced." He ran his hand gently along the blade before letting out a slight gasp. He retracts his hands and sees blood on his fingers where he had held the blade. "And it's pretty sharp ...when was the last time you cleaned and had this sharpened?"

"I haven't," replies Jaune, "It's been mounted to the wall above my fireplace since I was a kid."

Malarkey's eyes widen slightly, "Really?" He hands the sword back, "That's interesting."

"Wait, Evan, do you know where we're going?" asks Ruby.

"Yeah," he replies. "We're just taking the scenic route."

"Why?" asks Jaune.

"Because I know that we don't have to be anywhere for a good six more minutes and I'd prefer not to be locked in a room standing around waiting for something to happen," Malarkey replies, "I do way too much of that already."

* * *

'It is a nice day today,' thought Adam.

Since his childhood, which was spent living as a child in the mines under the "employ" of the SDC, Adam has spent his life living in fear. It was where he was given his brand over his eye which to this day remains hidden behind a white mask. The once radical White Fang activist has for the first time in years, found himself completely lost. The dream organization which he and Blake had been apart of for years had finally succumbed to corruption and they both watched as their world shattered around them. It all started when the White Fang allowed in a lady in a red dress, Adam never liked her, but the chiefs insisted on her presence. From there it only got worse and after he had been forced to watch as his fellow brothers and sisters slaughter a fanus village, a village of their own people! A village whose only crime was their refusal to aid the war effort, that was when Adam started feeling doubt. This wasn't the White Fang he grew up with, and he wasn't going to stand around and turn the other way as these crimes played out.

With the betrayal and a failed assassination attempt, he and Blake would have to lie low for a while. Blake intends to start a new life, but not Adam. Adam felt obligated to go back and either fix the White Fang, or tear it apart himself. Adam didn't know who to trust at this point, he was at the mercy of those who had rescued him and even they have their own agenda, but they were the only ones willing to help. Right now, he was on his way to meet a contact from the group that they had sent to meet him at Beacon. Blake and him had went their separate ways for the moment deciding that it would help them keep a low profile if they weren't seen together right away.

Adam wandered around the empty yard before he came to a stop, in the air was this strong smell of Menagerian tobacco. Before him, stood a teen in an Atlas military uniform staring off into the Emerald Forest. The last clue were the pair of wolf ears that sat cradling a maroon beret. Adam cautiously walks up to the teen.

"Is there room for one more?" he asks.

He saw the wolf fanus's head quirk slightly in his direction before he replies with a noticeable Northern Atlas accent "Of course."

"First time in Vale?" Adam asks.

With a quick puff, he responds "No. I've been here before, strictly business, but I'll never not appreciate the view."

Adam then decided to try his luck, if this was his contact, then he'll know what follows, "It reminds me of home."

As if on instinct, the teen replies "You've traveled a long way, haven't you?" The next line was what confirmed Adam's theory, "Think you're escaping and run into yourself."

Adam replies back with "Longest way round is the shortest way home." Adam turns and fully faces him and rather states more and asks "You're Kapkan."

Kapkapn turns to him and introduces himself as "1LT Maxim Basuda," he then holds his hand out and adds, "It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Red, I'll be your handler for the duration of your stay here."

"Handler?" inquires Adam.

"My job is to just simply make sure you're safe and that your cover isn't blown," he replies back.

Adam returns the hand shake and replies "Adam Taurus."

"How was your flight?" asks Basuda.

"It was fine," Adam responds, "A bit more crowded than I liked, how's the situation since we went under?"

Basuda lets out a worried sigh, "It's a mess, you weren't the only target." Basuda pulls out a folder and hands it to Adam, "In the span of two days, over a hundred members of the White Fang were targeted throughout all the branches in the world, many of them were either in leadership positions or were major influencers."

"How many managed to escape," Adam asks quietly as he turns to a page of photos, the ones who were killed were marked with a red "X."

Basuda answers "The numbers are inconclusive but ...we estimate between 10-15 managed to escape into hiding."

"And Lady Khan?"

"She's still active as far as we know," Basuda answers, "She arrogantly believes that her position is high enough to protect her."

"Well isn't that's surprising," Adam sarcastically mutters, "She isn't going to listen to anyone that isn't White Fang, least of all Atlas Military."

"Yes," Basuda rumbles while taking another drag of his cigar, "We'll try our best to get her out, my superiors are trying to coordinate with the Mengagerian Government."

"Good luck with that," Adam mumbles, "Lady Khan is probably going to die before she gives up her throne."

"Which we fear is going to happen soon," Basuda adds, "Worst comes to show, we need you to take over as leader."

Adam's eyes widen and he cries "Me? I couldn't even lead my own branch before my own men tried to mutiny, which for all intents and purposes, worked, I'm no longer in power along with most of my immediate leadership either dead or on the run."

"You may be our only chance of regaining any sense of order," Basuda tells him, "Better you than the other options, all of them being equally bad."

"What do you know about the people who ordered the hit on me?" Adam finally asks.

"Nothing conclusive," Basuda solemnly responds, "There are some possible groups my superiors are looking into, I'll try to get back to you when I have more concrete information." He closes the folder before asking, "By the way, how are you and your partner settling in so far?"

"Blake and I are doing fine, slept in a bed for the first time in what feels like forever," Adam smiles.

"If I may ask," Basuda turns and faces Adam and curiously inquires "Why did you pick Beacon?" Adam raises an eyebrow at him before Basuda continues "I just found it a little too convenient that you would arrive in the same place that my group did, sure made planning your liaison a lot easier."

"It was Blake's idea," Adam. "She saw it as a chance for us to restart our lives and as a chance to really make a difference."

Basuda's eyebrows quirk upward and he comments "That's rather noble of her."

"It's also incredibly naive," Adam mutters.

Basuda places the folder to his side and says "I should go, the orientation is starting soon." As he began to walk away, he stopped and told Adam "Enjoy your time here, I'll be in touch should you need anything."

"Thanks."

With a nod from the wolf fanus, he left Adam along in the courtyard. As Adam thought about all that has happened so far, he couldn't;'t help but to look forward for the up and coming time in the walls of this place. For better or for worse, this was going to be one wild ride.

* * *

 **Author's Note: There we go, I'm still working on the team formations, that's really the only thing holding me back right now. There are still a few more modifications going around to some of the other chapters. I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, well atleast to those that celebrate said holiday, to the rest of you I hope I'll see you on Christmas. As always, Big Brother is watching.**

 **Codex:**

 **Aluminum 6061-t6: High strength allow most commonly used in aircraft construction. It has a tensile strength of 45,000 PSI and a shear strength of 30,000 PSI.**


	18. Early Risers

**Author's Note: Yay! Semester is finally over, also merry Christmas to whoever celebrates, happy holidays to the rest, and happy new year.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Early Riser

Ruby was feeling lucid after having just woken up. The night previously consisted of what felt like a rather underwhelming commencement speech from Professor Ozpin. It was followed by basically a giant slumber party. Memories soon flooded Ruby as she groaned into her pillow. It should have been a normal night, write a letter to her friends back in Signal, then go to sleep ...then Yang had to go and drag her over to the cat faunus from earlier. It got a little loud and was then cut abruptly by an angry voice telling them to be quiet in a rather colorful way. To her horror, when she looked over in the direction of the voice, and saw Grant with a rather menacing death stare. Weiss from earlier sat across from him trying everything in her power to keep him from storming over.

"Come on, we gotta hurry," whispered a voice.

The voice completely broke Ruby out of her chain of thought. She took a quick peek at her scroll saw the time which read 4:30 AM. She sat up, looked over, and saw a pair of dark shadows silently tiptoeing around the other students.

"Well maybe we shouldn't have chosen a spot in the dead center of the room!" another voice hissed back.

She almost instantly recognized the voice as Evan, she quickly paired it to a familiar silhouette in front of her.

"Evan?" she quietly calls out. "Is that you?"

"Ruby?" he calls back in a surprised voice

He then turns on his flashlight which shined with a low-light red lense and it slowly moved onto her.

"Oh did we wake you?" he asks apologetically, "Sorry."

"No, its fine," Ruby whispers back now fully awake, "I was already up for some time ...w-what are you doing?"

She squints and spots him in what looked like track-shorts.

"Me and the guy are going on a run. Well, seeing as how you're already awake…." he then awkwardly shifts to his right before asking "Do you wanna come along?"

"I-ah, um…." Ruby blinks, "It's...but it's four."

"Soon to be five," Evan corrected before adding, "Trust me on this, it's always good to start the morning off with a run, makes your day feel completely different."

Rubby thought it over all while Yang's voice ran through her mind, she also imagined a chibi Yang talking to her personal reasons.

" _You need to go and meet new friends Rubes, break outa your shell, you know, be the bees-knees._ "

"Alright sounds fun," Ruby quickly accepted be further thought.

"You have work-out clothes right?" he asks quickly.

"Y-yeah." she nodded.

She always kept a set of running shorts and a tank top should she ever get the chance to go to the gym, you never know when you'll get that opportunity thrusted upon you and the huntsman and huntress career is a rather demanding one to say the least.

"Alright, meet us downstairs at ten before five, right outside the entrance," Malarkey instructed, "Last thing you wanna do is keep the CPT waiting."

Ruby recalled his scowl from last night and felt a shiver go up her spine. Without another thought, she reaches into her pack and then rushes off to the bathroom. In an instant she stuffed her things into her locker and jumped into her clothes all with a toothbrush in her mouth. Then, in a fury of rose petals, she zoomed off to the designated meet-up spot. As she left the entrance, she was greeted by the chilly morning air which clung to her skin like a thin blanket. When she got to the spot, she saw a group of people scattered about. By the fountain sat a chartering pair of gingers, one of them was talking about sloths for some reason, and by the grass she spotted Weiss who was stretching her calves. She felt completely lost and after a few seconds of mental gambling, she picked a direction and-

"Hey you're early!" a voice calls out excitedly making her jump and yelp.

It was Evan in his Atlas standard PT uniform.

"Oh sorry," Evan apologized bashfully, "Didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," she whimpered out as she tried...and failed to calm her pounding heart.

"You alright?" Evan asks, concerned, "I can hear your heart pounding all the way in Mantle."

"S-sorry," Ruby replies blushing from embarrassment, "I'm just nervous is all."

"Relax," Evan chuckles, "It's only a run."

"I just don't want to upset Grant anymore than I already have," she murmured, twiddling her fingers, "Especially with last night and the whole dust incident."

"Is that it?" Evan laughs, he pats her on the shoulder reassuringly. "Trust me it's fine, the CPT may seem rough and stern, but don't let that fool you. He's a nice guy one you make it past the initial stages." He looks up and mutters "Speaking of which…." He snaps to attention and salutes "GROUP, atten-TION!" Everyone in uniform, even Weiss to the surprise of Ruby snaps to attention. He then salutes and announces "Good Morning sir!"

Ruby freezes in fear and trembles as the Grant walks to them. To his side was boy who she hadn't met yet, she took note of his amber eyes and scales on the sides of his neck which he did nothing to hide, in fact he wore them proudly.

"Good Morning to you as well," he greets and returns the salute. He then stops at the two and nods at Evan, "Malarkey, Miss Rose," he greets, "How are you doing?"

"Fine sir," he then lightly elbows Ruby who was still frozen.

"I'm fine thank you for asking!" Ruby replies almost robotically.

Grant quirked his eyebrow slightly ad shares a glance wit the other boy be nodding and asking Evan "Hey can you gather all the non-Atlas people here, I want a quick chat with them."

"Sure thing," he replies. He turns and shouts "Hey Nora, Ren! Get over here, the CPT wants to talk to you!"

"All yours sir," he then gives one final pat to Ruby and whispers, "Relax you'll be fine."

Though Ruby was happy at his reassurance, it didn't do much to calm her nerves from Grant's cold, calculating stare. She watches as the ginger-sloth-girl as she excitedly pulls the boy with the pink stripe over.

"Alright," Grant began, "I'm happy that you three decided to join us and since you were invited by people from my group, I'll let a few things slide. There are some rules I would like you to follow though. First things first," he turns to the boy with the scales, "This is SSG Streicher, he'll be leading us in morning PT or Physical Training."

"Hello," he greets politely.

Grant continues "When we are on the field, he is in charge, do everything he tells you. Next, no screwing around, you wanna goof off fine, do that on your own time, not here. Finally, this is more advice for you, don't cheat on yourself. Though the PT that we do is only designed to sustain the muscles you already have, it still won't do you any good to cheat on yourself. We're about to go on a 5K run, so there's not a lot you can do to cheat, keep that in mind should you choose to join us for future sessions. Cheating includes using your aura or semblance to make it easier on yourself. I just want you to remember those rules, if you screw around, goof off and interrupt training, I will kick you out, no questions asked. Unlike my soldiers, you're civilians meaning I can't punish you and I have to retain discipline amongst my ranks somehow. If you're confused on what to do, just follow the people around you, if you need help, just feel free to ask, we good?"

They all nodded.

"Alright, now other than that," Grant smiles with the cold glare quickly melting away, "Just enjoy yourself and have a good time."

They each have their own acknowledgments.

"Go ahead and line up with the others, we're just gonna do a little warm-up first. See you in formation," he and the other boy walk off to join the others.

The ginger-sloth-girl cracks a wide smile and turns to Ruby.

"Hi I'm Nora and this…." she yanked over the poor boy next to her ...who did;not even flinch at her actions, "...is my best friend Ren! We're together, but not together-together. We've been best friends for the longest time and we're very excited to meet and attend Beacon with you!" She pauses for a deep breath and asks "What's your name?"

"Ruby," she blinks.

Still slightly dazed by the girls extroverted nature, she was caught off guard when Nora grabs her hand and pulled her and Ren along to the gathering, chattering the whole way.

"Oh I can see it now!" the eagerness oozed off of her like radiation, "We're gonna be the best of friends. We can go shopping, paint our nails and talk about cute boys! I gotta introduce you to Penny!"

* * *

"It's nice today," Pyrrha murmured to herself as she exited the gym.

She liked working out in the morning, not a lot of people like to be up in the morning so that left a rather empty gym, which results in a much lower likelihood of running into someone who knew of her. There was at least one person she was hoping to see here at Beacon, but sadly with all of the chaos of last night, it didn't look like she would get the chance to talk to her friend before initiation. She is then brought out of her thoughts as the sun crept over the horizon and illuminated the school yard. She soon found herself distracted by a distant sound of clapping and chanting. As I continued on, the chanting and clapping grew louder meaning it was coming closer.

"Hard work!"

" _Hard work!_ "

"Hard work!"

" _Hard work! Hard work,work!_ "

"Everybody's doin'it right ( _Hard work, work)_

Hard Work, that's what they say ( _Hard work, work_ )

Hard Work, to earn my pay ( _Hard work, work_ )

Hard Work, do it every day ( _Hard work, work_ )

I get up bout' a quarter to three ( _Hard work, work_ )

Gotta go and earn my pay ( _Hard work, work_ )

Put my boots on and lace em' up ( _Hard work, work_ )

I got another days work ( _Hard work, work_ )"

Pyrrha watched in fascination as a formation of two by five crested over the hill with their cadence caller running alongside the formation. The first five were wearing standard Atlas military PT uniform with the gray cotton t-shirts and running shorts with a yellow logo that read "Expeditionary Force" on them. After the five was to her surprise, Weiss Schnee who was also wearing her own set. The six of them were running as if it was just an everyday occurrence to them, though Weiss did look a little more weathered compared to the others with her deeper pants. Then came the final four, first was a bubbly ginger girl who seems more interested in the things around the formation rather than the run itself, in fact Pyrrah could have sworn she wasn't even breathing, she was also wearing a set of Atlas PTs. The last three were in their own gear, in front was , dark-red and black haired girl who was managing to hold it together despite her weathered breathing and the heavy amount of sweat polling around her forehead.

Behind her was a boy with a pink stripe in his hair, he basically looked like he was stuck between deciding to cry or to die, this was of course no help from the girl behind him who was _another_ ginger this one being even more hyper than the first somehow. She was behind the poor boy shouting encouraging things to him as they ran. All in all a rather peculiar assortment of people. As the group came to a stop, they got back into a formation and did some quick stretching and in the dead center of the group, she spotted the person she was looking for.

* * *

"So how was it?" Evan asks Ruby suddenly while they were stretching their hamstrings. "Wasn't so bad was it?"

"Well ...it was different," Ruby chuckles softly.

"I mean you looked fine," Evan adds, "You seemed to hold it together really well."

"It's just a simple run," Ruby repeats, "Though, I'm really more of a sprinter."

Evan laughs "Yeah I figured with your semblance but, I think these endurance runs like this would do you good in the long run ...if you keep doing them."

Evan offers her a hand, she glances at it for a moment before taking it and letting Evan pull her up.

"I should probably have drank more water," Ruby muses, "But I really didn't expect to run a 5K the following morning."

"Still better than my first time," Evan reasoned.

"And I really could have done it without sprinting up every hill we could find," Ruby complained.

"Yeah," Evan snorts, "You're lucky Streicher didn't make us do suicide runs for a kilometer. Come on, if we hurry back we can beat the line to chow."

Ruby smiles and says "Race you back!" and disappears in a cloud of rose petals.

"Hey that's cheating!" Evan protests before taking off after her.

* * *

"Alex!" Pyrrha greets cheerfully.

" _Pryvit_ Pyrrha," Alex waves walking up to her.

" _Pryvit, dobroye utro_ ," she replies.

Alex quirks his eyebrows up before chuckling, "Ah, you're working on you Slavic."

"It's all I know I'm afraid," Pyrrha bows her head bashfully.

Alex waves it off saying "Don't worry, it shows you are trying and in most places that can get you pretty far. How have you been?"

"I have been well," she replies as they start off to the locker room. "Just got done in the gym."

"Hm," Alex nods and comments "I see you're an early riser as well."

"Well, it's really the only time I can get to work out without getting recognized," Pyrrah reasoned, "I would go at night but most gyms are open that late."

"You go alone or by yourself?" he asks.

"Myself," Pyrrha, "I really wouldn't mind working out with a partner but I'm afraid I can never find a person who can look past ...well, you know."

"I guess I am lucky for wearing a helmet," Alex chuckles, "My face isn't common knowledge."

"Oh, you have no idea," Pyrrha mutters, "Your fans would riot if you ever lost the helmet."

"It's not a look many can pull off," Alex admits, "But it is undeniably me, why should I hide it?"

"I couple never be you," Pyrrah laughs she then pauses and lets out a sigh.

"You're kidding right? I think you're lucky to have just normal membership in the famous people's club," he scoffs, "Everytime I put down my turret is like a religious experience for my fans, in fact I am pretty sure I am supposed to call them my followers seeing how they treat me as this "great prophet.""

"Doesn't that bother you though?" Pyrhra counters, "Isn't wrong that, that is probably all they see of us?"

Alex stops to think for a moment, he looks to her and says "For me, I really only care for the actual fight, I really don't have time to worry about what the public perception is of me. So I simply stopped trying long ago."

"What do you mean?" Pyrrah asks confused.

"The more you try to pander to the audience, make them like you, the less of a person you will seem to them," Alex explains, "Some people will be there to dislike you no matter what you say or do. At the end of the day, you are you, and as long as you're honest with yourself, they can never take that away from you. Trust me, you and I have much bigger things to worry about than what the tabloids print about us. I am not saying you shouldn't think about what your responses are, just don't be afraid to speak your mind."

"Why is it that every time we talk, you manage to confound me with how much wisdom you can dump on me?" Pyrrha laughs.

"Hey," he shrugs, "If you have spent as much time as me in the places I have been, you tend to learn things. Oh and by the way, we should probably expect some article to pop up about whether or not we are dating."

"Of course there would be," Pyrrah groans.

"I have seen worse," Alex shrugs.

The two came to a stop right outside the showers.

"I should go," Alex sighs, "We'll talk more on this later yes?"

"I'll hold you to it," Pyrrah replies. "We have some catching up to you."

Alex nods at her, tells her goodbye and then walks into the male showers.

* * *

"I know! We'll have some sort of signal! Like a distress signal!" Nora let's out an excited gasp, "A _secret_ signal so we can find each other in the forest! Can you imitate a sloth?" she asks curiously.

She then goes on to perform her best idea of a sloth impersonation.

"Nora?" Ren finally responds.

"Yes, Ren?" she childishly chirps.

"I don't think sloths make a lot of noise," he replied curtly.

Nora thinks this over for a moments, she then smiles and squeals "That's why it's perfect! No one will suspect we're working together!" Then all of a sudden, she turns and asks their third member. "Ruby what do you think?"

"Huh?" she blinked owlishly.

Truth be told she wasn't exactly invested in the conversation, she was more worried about the up-in-coming team formation.

"What do you think of our secret call?" Nora asks, "I mean you didn't think we weren't going to offer you a chance of ending up on our team did you?"

"Oh, um," Ruby thought about it for a moment, "I think a secret code is a good idea, it'll help when looking for your friends."

With a smug look that just exploded with 'I told you so,' Nora turns to Ren and says "See?"

Ruby then spots Yang waving at her from her locker.

"Hey, my sister is over there, I better go," Ruby said.

"Oh, alright, bye Ruby!" Nora waves.

"Farewell," Ren smiles.

Yang watched in fascination as the two continue to chatter away as Ruby ran over to her.

"What's up with them?" Yang asks.

"Oh, they're just coming up with ideas on how to find each other in the initiation," Ruby replies while pull Crescent Rose out of her locker.

"So where were you this morning?" Yang quirks an eyebrow at her sister, "Your sleeping bag was all packed up and you were nowhere in sight."

She replies, "I couldn't sleep so I went on a run."

"On your own or with a group?" Yang asks.

"With a group," Rub replies, slightly weirded out by Yang's questions.

"Who?" Yang asked, growing more curious.

"Just some friends," Ruby quickly glances at Yang, back at her locker, and then back to Yang again before asking rather flippantly "Why do you care?"

Yang's eyes started to tear up with pride.

"Oh my Oum you're making friends already!" Yang squeals and pulls Ruby into her arm and gives her a noogie, "See, I told you, you were the bees knees."

"Yang stop!" Ruby protested as she wrestled away from her sister, "I'm not the bees knees."

"I want details!" Yang demanded. "Who did you go with?"

Ruby rolls her eyes, "Yang come on, it just a run."

"Hey!" Yang scolds, "I may be proud you're finally breaking out of your shell, but it doesn't mean I'm not gonna see if these friends are the right ones for you." She places her hands on her hips, "Now who did you go with?"

"Well," Ruby sighed, "Are you sure we can't do this later?" Ruby pleaded.

"I'll only get worse as time goes on," Yang warned.

"Fine," Ruby pouted, "It were those two earlier you saw me with, Evan, Weiss, and a few of their friends."

"Oh, Evan huh?" Yang smirks playfully, "You must really want to be around him if you got up that early for a run."

"Yang!" Ruby cried, "It's too early for this!"

"Clearly not early enough since you went running well before I woke up," Yang retorts.

Ruby deadpans and counters with "That really isn't saying much considering how much you like to sleep in."

Yang looked offended and argues back "You will never understand Ruby, mama needs her beauty sleep. You think I was born like this?" she strokes her hair.

Ruby replied flatly "Yes."

Yang lets out a huff before moving on and asking "So how are ya feeling right now Ruby, ready for initiation?"

Ruby smiles confidently "Yep! No more awkward small talk or "getting-to-know-you" stuff. Today, I get to let my sweetheart do the talking."

Ruby thumps her chest with her fist to emphasize her confidence.

Yang rolls her eyes before commenting "Well, remember Ruby, you're not the only one going through initiation. If you wanna grow up, you're gonna have to meet new people and learn to work together."

Ruby lets out a frustrated groan saying "You sound like Dad!" Ruby shuts her locker before saying "Okay, first of all: What goes meeting new people have to do with fighting? And secondly: I don't need people to help me grow up! I drink milk!"

"But what about when we form teams?" Yang counters.

Ruby nervously rubbed her neck asking "Um, I don't know, I... I'll just be on your team or something..."

Yang lets out a tired sigh as she brings her hair around her shoulder and starts stroking it, "Maybe you should try being on someone else's team. I mean you already made friends, I'm sure they'd be willing to let you be a part of theirs."

Ruby narrowed her eyes, she felt slightly upset about Yang's comment.

"So you're saying you don't want me to be on your team?" asks Ruby growing irritated.

"No, I did not say that," Yang stated firmly, "But I'm not always going to be there for you Ruby. You really gotta learn to be more self-sufficient, you know, break out of your shell."

Ruby takes a deep breath, she lets out a huff and slings her weapon over her shoulder.

She then turns to Yang and says "Just so you know, I _am_ self-sufficient and I am fully capable of breaking out of my shell should there be a reason I have to." She then takes a step closer and her voice grows softer, "But Yang we are family, and family…."

"And family sticks together," Yang finished, a smile creeps on her face as she rolls her eyes and says, "You really gonna play that card huh?"

Ruby beams confidently and says "You know it."

The pair stopped as they come across a group of six teens, they were all gathered around a table that had their gear scattered about it as they methodically price their loadouts together.

"Woah," Yang whistled.

Ruby was practically drooling at the sight of their weapons, she admired the amount of care the teens showed as they all ran through their basic function checks. Each boy took note of the amount of ammo they could carry as well as compared with the weight of the other equipment they would need. She stopped when she spotted Evan who was currently linking rounds into an ammo belt. Ruby takes a look at Yang, takes her hand and drags her over to the table.

"Hey Evan!" Ruby calls out.

Evan looks up surprised, he quickly spots Ruby dragging behind a tall blond girl with long, flowing blond hair and rather prominent assets.

"Hey Ruby," Evan replies, "We're just getting our stuff ready."

"I can see that," Ruby nods, she then nudges Yang forward and says "This is my older sister Yang."

"Sister huh?" Evan murmurs giving her a quick glance, "Father's side or the mother's?"

"Father," Yang smiles.

Evan smiles back and offers his hand, "Evan."

Yang smiles back and takes the hand.

"So you're Ruby's first friend here at Beacon?" Yang observes.

"I am?" Evan asks, slightly surprised by the comment.

"Uh huh," Yang nods before looking up and down Evan as if judging him for something. She randomly says "Okay I approve."

Evan, slightly confused by the comment awkwardly says "Um, thanks?"

He then turns away just missing Yang grow a rather cheeky grin as she winks at her sister. Ruby on the other hand knew exactly what her sister had meant.

"Yang, no!" she silently hisses.

Yang shrugs innocently only further enraging Ruby. The three are soon drawn to a rather girly, high-pitched yelp followed by a resounding " _thwp_." They looked over and saw poor Jaune dangling from a spear stuck to a locker. Any questions they had were soon answered when they saw a satisfied looking Weiss stroll past followed by….

"Is that Pyrrha Nickos?" Yang asks curiously.

"Oh yeah, forgot she was going here too," Evan commented.

Ruby looks at Evan incredulously and says "Evan, you saw her this morning."

Evan thought back for a moment before he laughs upon realization, "Oh yeah, she was talking to Alex."

"Wait, wait, wait," Yang cuts him off, "Alex, as in Alexander Seneviev? Lord Tachanka and the Invincible Girl were together in a place and were just talking? How do you forget that? They're like titans!"

"Well, I'm sure it had nothing to do with a certain someone who left me behind, disoriented in a cloud of rose petals," he then shoots a glare at Ruby from the corner of his eye while she whistled innocently and glanced that other way.

"Should we help him?" Yang asks still looking at Jaune as he struggled to reach for the spear.

Right then Pyrrha walks by, shoots Jaune an apology before summoning the spear out making Jaune drop straight to the ground.

"It was nice meeting you!" Pyrah says cheerfully as she fled.

"Likewise…." Jaune groaned as he slumped against the locker.

"Oh nevermind, he's got it," Yang adds.

Evan sighs, walks over and offers him a hand and pulls him up.

"I think it's safe to say that whatever you told her didn't quite stick the landing," Evan comments with a blank face, "What did you even ask them?"

"I asked her to be on my team," Jaune replies.

"Well that doesn't sound too bad-" Ruby sits before Evan cuts her off.

"Wait for it."

"I don't understand. My dad said all women look for is confidence! Where did I go wrong?" Jaune asks.

"What did you say to her?" Evan asks, meaning Weiss.

"I may have called her "Snow Angel,"" Jaune answers sheepishly.

"There it is," Evan mutters.

Yang lets out a snort, "Well she definitely left you hanging now didn't she?" she turns to the others and for affirmation "Right? Guys?"

Ruby facepalsm and says "Yang, no ...just no."

"What do you mean no?" Yang cries, "You let him get away with it? His was worse than mine!"

"What are you talking about?" Evan asks blanky.

Yang stood, shocked at his response, especially when Ruby deadpans and says "Yang, not everyone is obsessed with puns like you."

Yang in disbelief, looked back at Evan who now had a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh you-" she growls.

"Come on, let's go," Ruby quickly cuts in and starts pushing the group out the door. "We're gonna be late for Initiation!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Alright this seems like a good spot to end, some more character building until they go through initiation. It would be a good time to see how I'm gonna form my teams, I have an overall idea but I'm still working on the final cut. Whether or not Pyrrah should survive her encounter with Cinder is up for debate, but here's the situation, if Pyrrha doesn't die, who died in her place? I have basically three options on this, first, I kill one of my main characters, it is ballsy, but it could easily backfire as any bit of character building I had would instantly be thrown out the window and wasted. Second, I could create more OCs and kill them off, and really the issues with that option should be obvious. Lastly, I could just not kill anyone in the main cast, considering I'm planning on expanding this story into a war drama as it progresses, it might be a good idea but I don't know. I'll keep working on it for now, but I am really a twisting and turning on where I am going to take my characters. I also gotta figure out how I am going to set up my teams. Until then, thank you all for reading, and remember, Big Brother is watching.**


	19. Routine Training Exercise

**Author's Note: Okay, I just found out that the mother's name is actually "Willow." Thankfully, I only ever mentioned her by name a handful of times so it isn't much of an edit. On other news, I've finally figured out teams, partners, and I have finalized the semblances on all my characters. Also happy new year.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Routine Training Exercise

It was the morning of the Initiation and all potential students were currently lined up at the Beacon Cliff. The school headmaster, Professor Ozin stood before them, coffee mug in hand, judging their every move.

"For years, you have trained to become warriors," Ozpin lectured, "And today, your abilities will be evaluated in the Emerald Forest."

His Vice-headmistress, Glynda closes her tablet before meeting the eyes of the students.

"Now, I'm sure many of you have heard rumors about the assignment of "teams." Well, allow us to put an end to your confusion. Each of you will be given teammates... **today** ," she announced.

"What?" Ruby anxiously whispers, "Ohhh..."

"These teammates will be with you for the rest of your time here at Beacon. So it is in your best interest to be paired with someone with whom you can work well," Ozpin continued.

Ruby lets out a long groan as her anxiety continued to build.

"That being said, the first person you make eye contact with after landing will be your partner for the next four years," Ozpin.

Ruby grabs the sides of her head and hysterically cries " **Whaaaat?!"**

Ruby could feel her whole world shattering around her like glass.

"See?" Nora nudges Ren and playfully sings "I _told_ you-!"

"After you've partnered up, make your way to the northern end of the forest. You will meet opposition along the way. Do not hesitate to destroy everything in your path…" Ozpin adjusts his glasses before adding "Or you **will** die."

Jaune lets out a nervous laugh before loudly swallowing a gulp.

"Just another routine training exercise hm?" Streicher jokes to Kowalski making him roll his eyes.

"Stay calm, remember what you were taught, and I'll see you at the rendezvous," Anderson tells his men as they all take position on their pads.

"You heard the man, boys!" Seneviev bellows enthusiastically, "Time for some hazard pay!"

"Ho'ah!"

"Ho'ah."

"Ura."

" **Ura!** "

"NORA!"

"Wait ...what?" Kowalski murmurs.

Ozpin adds one final note saying "You will be monitored and graded through the duration of your initiation, but our instructors will not intervene. You will find an abandoned temple at the end of the path containing several relics. Each pair must choose one and return to the top of the cliff. We will regard that item, as well as your standing, and grade you appropriately. Are there any questions?"

Jaune nervously raises his hand.

"Yeah, um, sir?" he calls out.

Ozpin turns to the others and says

" **Good**! Now, take your positions," he says to them before turning back to Jaune and nodding.

Malarkey, Kowalski, and Seneviev were the first to get ready as their arms let off a cosmic blue glow as they each powered up their semblances. Anderson was next as he simply crouched down and made a couple quick calculations for his double-jump. Streicher unspooled his rappel line and gave it a few good swings before whipping it out with a loud crack. Lastly was Basuda who summons a massive, pearlescent condor which gracefully lands on his stretched out arm.

"Uh, sir?" Jaune tries again, "I've got, um... a question."

Jaune completely misses the tile under Weiss rising up into a springboard, rocketing her into the air and over the forest. He also fails to notice as the other platforms activate down the line.

"So, this landing... strategy, thing... Uh, wha-what is it?" he asks nervously, "You're, like, dropping us off or something?"

"Well that dude's fucked," Malarkey sighs as he and Streicher observe the poor blonde.

"Well you never know," Streicher reasoned, "He just might surprise us."

"Mm, maybe," Malarkey shrugs before looking over and watching as Senviev gets launched. "Looks like you're up."

"I'll see you on the other side," he says to Malarkey.

Malarkey nods as Streicher gets launched. Streicher closes his eyes briefly as he once again felt the familiar feeling of vertigo as he went into free-fall. He opens his eyes and gazes upon the massive trees below him. Conveniently, the majority of the trees in the forest are made up of giant redwoods easily averaging heights of 250 ft and greater. To Streicher, this meant they were tall enough to safely bungee jump off of. He hastily readies his shock cord as he eyes one tree in particular which looked to be around 350 ft tall. His world begins to slow and he hurls the chord at the taller one, successfully snagging the cord around its massive trunk.

With the chord secured to his ankle, Streicher calmly enters into a swan dive as he plummets towards the ground. He felt a slight sense of discomfort as he saw the ground rushing towards him and he instinctively closes his eyes just as the cord reached its end. As he didn't have any form of power or control for the duration of this moment, he let himself bounce a few times before he opened his eyes again. Quickly regaining his bearings, he estimated the distance between the end of the cord and the ground was around 10 ft and unsecured his MPX. He gets a tight grasp on his weapon before quickly reaching up to his ankle to undo his screw-lock carabiner.

He falls to the ground, landing on his feet before dropping to a crouch and snapping is smg up as he clears the area. He quiets his breathing as he listens to the sounds of the forest, constantly checking his peripherals for any sign of movement, friendly or otherwise. When nothing came forth, Streicher slowly stood up, he gazes up at the cord still hanging from the tree before he pulls out a small device and presses the button.

With a loud, electronic click, the cord unfastens itself from the top of the tree and falls down to the ground before him. After quickly respooling the cord, he places it into his bag and secures his smg to his side before pulling out his rifle. Without ever taking his eyes off the forest, he chambers a round and closes the dust over. Streicher suddenly freezes, eyes wide and alert, trusting his gut, he snaps his rifle onto the bushes behind him.

A decently accented voice calls out the word "Texas."

"Ranger," Streicher responds instinctively before lowering his rifle.

Out from the bushes steps Basuda with his condor still perched on his shoulders.

"Good to see you SGT," he greeted.

"Likewise sir," Streicher respond politely.

Basuda whispers something in Russian to the bird and petted its breast gently before it takes off into the sky and disappears in a flash of light.

'Always with the birds,' Streciher internally grumbled.

Basuda must have known what he was thinking judging by the cheeky grin he threw his way.

"Arlight, let's get to the rendezvous."

"You know the way?" Streicher states more than asks.

Basuda nods " _Da_ , I spotted it while flying in."

"Lead the way sir," Streicher glances at their rear while the two make way for the spot.

* * *

Anderson's breathing quickened as the ground came closer. The free-fall barely lasted five seconds, but to Anderson it was an eternity. He had to time his jump to just three to four feet off the ground, if he got it wrong then he could seriously injure himself. Even after numerous successfully jumps, this was still something that made him uneasy.

As he fell closer, at the last moment, he used his aura as a trampoline propelling him further and slowing his velocity just enough before….

*blink*

Anderson is suddenly transported from the air onto the ground where he tucks and rolls to cushion the fall. He lands on his forefoot and snaps his rifle up pulling security as he observed the forest for any signs of danger.

*snap*

Anderson immediately swung his rifle over in the direction of the noise and stops at a group of bushes. Anderson was not known for having an itchy trigger finger, "Rules of Engagement" exist for a reason and the last thing Anderson wanted to do was blow away an innocent teen who had the stupidity to sneak up on him.

In a loud commanding voice, he calls out "Halt! Advance be recognized!"

After the line was delivered, Anderson waited for a response of any kind. Instead, he was greeted with a dark silhouette rising from behind the bush. It was too buried in the shadows to quite make out what it was.

In one final attempt, he calls out once again "Step out of the bush and identify yourself or I will open fire!"

No response. The figure instead stood there and he good feel its gaze boring deep into his skull. Without further hesitation, Anderson lets off three rounds into what he believed was the torso. A pained bark and growl was heard and the silhouette stumbled forth out of the shadows to reveal and ursa minor with three bullet holes in its chest. He quickly fires off two more round this time into the throat of the beast and it plops down onto the ground before him slowly choking on its own blood. He then started hearing more growling, this time it was louder. He glances back at the bushes and sees a pair of red eyes glaring back at him. The eyes move forward into the light revealing another ursa, this one looking much angrier than the last.

With a slight turn of his head, he could see another one entering into his peripherals. The ursa in front of him narrows its eyes as if challenging him. A challenge which he was happy to oblige. Anderson fires off a good burst of automatic fire before swing the rifle behind him and dropping onto his knee, firing off the rest of his magazine. His rifle let out a familiar click just as he heard the footsteps of a third ursa. He drops his rifle to his side before ripping his sidearm out of his holster. His Burnt Bronze Desert Eagle was revealed in its full glory as he brings it to bear on the last ursa.

*slice*

Before he could fire, the ursa limps forward a step and falls over revealing a man with a sword that was still dripping with the ursa's blood. The man wore an asymmetrical black, long-sleeved, double-breasted stylized high-collared blazer with slit sleeves along with red thorn sigils adorned with a white crest that lined up on his left shoulder. He also wore a white mask which hid his eyes, Anderson took note of the two reddish-black horns sticking out from either side of his head. The man's gaze lowered to the pistol aimed at him, neither moving.

"Down!" Anderson calls out.

The man immediately ducks and Anderson fires at the ursa that had managed to sneak up behind him. The man looks at the corpse before turning back to Anderson, who by now was holstering his massive pistol.

"Nice shot," the man complimented.

"Thank you," Anderson responded politely. "So who are you?"

"My names Adam," the man responds.

"Anderson," he responds in kind, he on instinct reaches his hand out.

Adam looks at it for a moment before slowly accepting.

"I guess this makes us partners," Anderson comments.

"I guess it does," Adam smirks.

* * *

"I spy with my little eye…." Penny places her hand under her chin as she thinks of her next response, "Something colba-"

"My eyes," Kowalski answers.

"How did you know?" asks Penny, slightly surprised.

"What else is cobalt around here?" Kowalski snorts.

"Oh," Penny hummed thoughtfully, "Your turn."

"Daddy's back," a voice calls out.

Penny jumps up and shouts "Salutations SPC Malarkey!"

"Hey," Kowalski waves. "How'd it go?"

"I just got off the air with SGT Streicher," Malarkey grunts as he sits down on the rock besides Kowalski, "He said he's just a few minutes out from us, he and the LT are close to us."

It had been ten minutes since Kowalski had landed. In that time, he had met up with Penny, made a decently lengthed trek to the spot, and found Malarkey there waiting for them. So far it has been a rather uneventful day, other then being launched off of a cliff of course.

"Texas!" another voice announces.

"Ranger!" they all reply as Streicher and Basuda emerge from the bushes.

At the moment, the group had taken refuge in a small cove as they awaited the rest of the group.

"How's it going?" Basuda asks.

Streicher steps aside and starts setting up a TUGS.

"Nothing happening yet sir," Malarkey yawns. "Sensors are clean for the moment."

"Sir," Kowalski calls out, "CPT Anderson is on the line."

Basuda pauses for a moment and sniffs the air.

"What is it?" Malarkey inquires.

"That stench," Basuda says grimly, "I've smelled it before."

Basuda walks over and Kowalski hands him the sat-phone.

"Something wrong?" Malarkey asks as he watches Kowalski mess with the radio.

"Radio's getting a lot of interference," he murmurs.

"Just now?" Malarky asks, his smile fading.

"Yeah, just came out of nowhere," Kowalski replies. "No idea what's causing it, it was working just fine a moment ago."

Malarkey picks up his tablet. For a moment, he sees a handful of contacts gets picked up by the sensor. He confirms with the TUGS that they are indeed real.

"Sir," Malarkey calls out to Basuda. He gets up too turns to see Basuda still Basuda still on the radio. "Sir!"

Basuda turns and looks back but before Malarkey could say anything, a loud high-pitched noise filled everyone's head throwing them all off balance. Basuda was on the floor grabbing his ears in pain due to his more sensitive ears.

"Sir!" Penny cries before rushing to his side.

"Wait!" Streicher cries.

They all stop and watch as the wind around them starts to pick up and a thick fog starts to build around them.

"Incoming!" Streicher screams.

Everyone instantly ducks and covers their heads as the wind builds up into a full blast knocking everyone into the ground before another sonic blast hits their ears making Basuda black-out.

"Sir, sir!" a voice calls out.

Basuda's eyes snap open and he shouts "I'm alright."

He looks up to see Penny worriedly holding him.

"Status!" he barks.

"We were just hit sir!" Penny reported. "I suspect a High-Frequency-Sonic-Pulse!"

"Sir, TUGS down!" Streicher reports.

"So is the heart-bet sensor," Malarkey adds.

"Radio's out too," Kowalski adds.

"Nosalises!" Basuda growls.

Basdua unslings his AK and switches off the safety. Everyone else snaps into action each brandishing their weapons with their backs to each other.

"This much electronic interference with fog this thick, its gotta be an entire fucking den!" Kowalski worriedly cries.

"Sir, we can not stay here," Streciher hisses.

A cacophony of roars surrounded the group as they scooted slightly closer to each other.

"We don't have much of a choice right now," Basuda says simply.

"Man I can't see shit," Malarkey grumbles. "How 'bout you SGT?"

"No," he shook his head.

"Stay calm!," Basuda warns, "Watch your backs, boys."

The barking and grunting grew louder as the horde closed in on the group. They may not have been able to see it, but with the noise they were making, it really didn't matter.

"Okay, okay…." Basuda mutters, "Looks it's going to be tougher than the library."

The snarling grew even closer.

"On my mark…." Basuda whispers.

Kowalski was the first to fire. From the edge of the fog he watched a lone nosalis leap up into the air. Kowalski raises his shotgun and fires directly into its face, almost decapitating it. Streicher entered bullet-time, he watched the muzzle blast from the shotgun push a good chunk of the fog out of the way, revealing an entire group climbing on the walls and trees above them.

"Cyka blyat!" Basuda shouts. "Fire at will!"

From there everyone let loose as the fog cleared revealing the cove which was crawling with the creators.

"Let's rock!" Malarkey cries and lets loose at full automatic spraying into the droves.

Kowalski and Penny sliced and blasted any got too close while Basuda and Streicher used their rifles to pick off the ones on the walls of the cove. Soon, a pair of plated ones closed in on Kowalski. Kowalski fires off the last of his mag, blasting the guts out of one of them while the other tackling him to the ground. They wrestle for a bit as Kowalski struggles to unhook his hammer while trying to stop it from biting him.

A bullet suddenly rips through the back of its skull and Kowalski pushes it off of him. Kowalski watches as a group descends down on Streicher. Streicher fires off the rest of his rifle before slamming the butt of it into the snout of an unfortunate nosalis that had managed to get in behind him. Streicher pulls out his Glock and cuts an additional two that managed to get too close before sweeping up his smg and firing off into the crowd. A roar draws Kowalski's attention as a creature charges him. Kowalski swiftly bats it aside with his hammer before slapping a fresh mag into his shotgun. He fires several shells into the group approaching Streicher whie Penny uses her Floating Array to slice a nosalis in half.

Kowalski looks to Streicher and sarcastically asks "Routine, right?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: I am leaving it off there if an attempt not ruin the pacing. Writing Streicher's landing was the most fun part about this chapter. I drew inspiration from the opening scene in the movie** _ **Goldeneye**_ **, it is arguably one of the best James Bond movies and is a personal favorite of mine.** _ **Nosalis**_ **is obviously not a Grimm type from canon, it is from a book/game series that I grew up with and it holds a close place to my heart. The teams will be formed next chapter. Until then, goodbye and remember, Big Brother is watching.**


	20. A Walk in the Woods

**Author's Note: Alright, here we are, a new chapter. Oh, in other news, I have lost contact with my old Beta Reader. I'm sure he's just busy, but until then, I am gonna need new readers to come in. If you're interested let me know in the reviews or my PMs, it doesn't really matter. Whoever becomes the beta reader will get to read the chapters early and also get an insight in how the story will turn out. I will also bounce story ideas off of them from time to time. I only need one so you will have to make an argument as to why you think you should be the beta reader.**

 **Disclaimers: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

A Walk in the Woods

"Are we there yet?" Ruby groans.

"My answer is the same as it was when you asked me two minutes ago Ruby," Weiss responded without looking up from her map.

"But Weiss," Ruby complained, "We've barely moved a hundred meters since we've landed!"

"Complaining to me won't make it go any faster," Weiss counters.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Ruby asks, she glances down at Weiss.

"Trying to find where we are in comparison to where we landed and where we need to go," Weiss replies.

"You mean the forest temple?" Ruby asks, "I know the way, I saw it while flying over head. Follow me!" she cries excitedly.

But before she could take off, Weiss says sharply "No."

"No?" Ruby asks, confused. "Why?"

"I was planning on meeting up with a group before we made for the artifacts," Weiss replies, "It's not far from the artifact site…." Weiss murmurs, "But it doesn't hurt to be sure."

"O-oh," Ruby shifted nervously while looking north, "How long will that take?"

Weiss slightly quirks an eyebrow before asking "Any reason as to why you're in such a hurry?"

Ruby awkwardly responds "Well, it's just I was hoping I could get onto the same team as my sister."

Weiss eyes her and says, "You are aware of the likelihood of that actually happening is ...rather low to say the least right?"

Ruby freezes and swallows a lump in her throat. She desperately wishes that, that particular scenario wouldn't happen.

"What were you planning to ride on your sister's coattails for your entire career?" Weiss asks sarcastically.

"No," Ruby cries defensively.

"Ruby," Weiss sighs, "The whole point of this…." Weiss motions around her, "Is so that you…." she points directly back to Ruby, "Would actually meet people."

"I know, I-" Ruby whimpers, "I just didn't want to be on my own."

Weiss remained silent and looks at her sympathetically for a moment, and sympathetically. Ruby looks back at her, confused.

"And," Ruby protests, "You just told me you were meeting a group in the forest."

"Tha-" Weiss pauses as she realizes the box she had found herself in.

Ruby swallows a nervous lump as she waited for Weiss's rath. She watches as Weiss pauses for a moment to process what she had just heard. To Ruby's surprise

Now, had this been only a year prior, Weiss would have taken the comment personally and gotten all defensive. Like all humans, they are liable to change and they are known to be wrong every now and then. To her surprise, Weiss lifts her head back and lets out a laugh.

"Damn," Weiss laughs, "You're right I did say that." She looks back at Ruby and says "Do you know if she is going to wait for you by the artifacts?"

"Most likely," Ruby replies.

Weiss nods and says "Alright." Weiss gets up and folds her map back up before putting it back into her pocket. "Best not to keep her waiting."

"What about your group?" Ruby asks. "What about Grant, I mean ...that's who you're meeting with right?"

Weiss waves it off, "Don't worry about him, I can get him on the radio whereas I don't think your sister's scroll will be able to get a connection out here. Besides, Grant and his men are trained for these kinds of things. I doubt he really needs our help at the moment."

She plucks the radio from her belt, but before she does, she turns back to Ruby.

"Oh, and for your information, you're not alone," she says simply.

Ruby blinks in surprise.

"Whether you like it or not, we're…." she continued, "Now stuck together for the next four years. Wouldn't do us any good if we don't learn to get along and work together. So from now on, if we do anything, we do it as a team, deal?" she raises her hand and smiles.

Ruby smiles back and accepts the hand.

"Deal."

* * *

*explosion*

"Focus the machine guns on the females!"Anderson barks.

Malarkey and Seneviev shift their aim to the walls of the cove swatting the creatures off like flies.

"Kowalski how's our exit looking?!" Basuda cries out.

"Charges are set!" he responds.

"Alright!" Anderson barks to the group, "We are LEAVING!"

The group soon quickly file out of the passageway with Malarkey and Seneviev hanging back to provide suppressive fire for their escape. Slowly, the herd began to thin out and retreat back into the cave.

"I don't like this," Malarkey grunts.

A monstrous roar vertebrates from the cave and loud footsteps could be heard as something walked forward. It stumbles forward into the light, revealing a large, thick skin, hulking beast with a slug like body, two stubby hind legs, and two massive, armored front legs. The creature took one look at them and let out another roar before stomping its feet into the ground.

"Look who decided to show up," Seneviev whistled.

"GO!" Anderson screams, "Move your asses!"

The three high-tail out right as the Nosalis Rhino lowers its head and prepares to charge.

"Kowalski blow it!" Anderson screeches.

"But you aren't clear yet sir!" he protests.

"I gave you a direct order, fucking blow it!" Anderson screams.

Jumped and dove head first across the opening right as Kowalski presses down on the detonator, triggering the explosives lining the archway.

"Did we get it?" Adam asks.

"You know what, I'm not exactly keen on finding out," Malarkey comments, "I say we just get out of here."

"Agreed," Anderson breathes.

His radio starts to go off and he takes a moment to catch his breath before picking it up and answering it.

" _Angel-Oscar-Sierra, this is Snow White-1, do you read me?_ "

"This is Angel-Oscar Sierra, we read you, over," he answers.

" _Hey listen,_ " Weiss says, " _My partner and I are heading straight for the forest temple._ "

"Roger, we'll meet you there…." Anderosn then notices the wind noise in the background, "Wait, Weiss, what's that noise?""

" _Well_ …." Weiss laughs, ``.zzzzzzzzassh"

"What was that you're breaking up?" Anderson asks.

" _I said it was Ruby's idea!_ " she replies.

" _Hey! You didn't have to agree!_ " he faintly heard Ruby protest in the background.

"What are you talking about?" he asks.

" _Hey Weiss, we're almost over the temple!_ " he hears Ruby cry.

"Over?" he murmurs.

His eyes traced upwards and fall on a massive Nevermore flying over head, and his jaw dropped..

" _Just meet us there_ ," was all Weiss said before cutting the line.

Anderson lowers his radio without taking his eyes off the bird.

"She's been busy," Basuda muses.

* * *

"They are quite the fascinating group, are they not Glynda?" Ozpin commented as he observed the group.

"They are also unnecessarily brutal," Glynda scowls as she went over their files. "And the have no qualms against taking life," she immediately thought of the night she had met SPC Malarkey, "And they don't seem to feel any remorse for it either."

"So their efficient at their job-"

"They're soldiers!" Glynda snaps, "We need people who can set themselves apart from others and inspire, not mindless killers."

"Which they aren't," Ozpin corrected, "They are merely patriots who are dreadfully loyal to each other and their home. Patriots who are willing to do what they feel is necessary to ensure the safety and security of their people, even at the sacrifice of their lives."

"What makes you think you can trust them?" asks Glynda. "You know full well about the issues with soldiers trying to assimilate back amongst civilian life."

Ozpin looks over to his Vice-headmistress, "Which is why I want them here." He turns back to the screen, "You and I are no strangers to sacrifice, but it is something that our students are going to have to learn. Time away from the line will do them some good, also its a show of good faith to James.."

"And you think these are the ones who should inspire the others?" Glynda asked skeptically.

"They are an ...unusual option," Ozpin smiles with a gleam in his eye. "But an option we may just need."

"I still don't know why you agreed to house Mr. Taurus here," Glynda narrowed her eyes at the teen. "He's a major security risk," Glynda warns, "Especially if word ever got out about his true identity, him and Miss Belladonna's."

"I believe in redemption," Ozpin, "And those two clearly want another chance to set things right."

"And if those who are after them come here too?" Glynda asks, "I can't put the students at risk, Professor."

"They're going to have to deal with that at some point," Ozpin tells her, "All we can do is try to prepare them for what shall happen."

"Still doesn't sit right with me," she grumbles, "I sure hope you know what you're doing."

Ozpin chose to remain silent and instead focused his gaze on a particular girl in a red cloak.

* * *

"I change my mind," Weiss cries, "This is a horrible idea!"

"Well," Ruby replies as she looks down at her feet as the dangle in the air, "It's a bit late now isn't it?"

"Okay, Ruby, what do we do now?" Weiss asks.

"Well, we jump obviously," Ruby laughs.

"Surely you can't be serious!" Weiss cries.

"I am serious," Ruby replies, "And don't call me Surely. Now if we don't jump now, we'll overshoot and I don't wanna find out where ol' big bird is gonna take us."

"Ugh!" Weiss groans.

She could not believe the situation she had found herself in.

"Okay, you ready?"

"Breathe Weiss," she whispers to herself.

"One three…."

"It's just like jump-school," Weiss reasoned to herself.

"Three…."

"Except there's not parachute," she groans. "Wait hold on."

"Two….."

"I said wait!" Weiss cries as she tries to pull free Myrtenaster without letting go of Nevermore.

"One…."

And Ruby let go.

* * *

Blake continued to stare at something above them while Yang focused on the forest.

"Blake, did you hear that?" Yang turns to her partner, "What do we do?"

Finally, the faint-but-growing-louder scream of "Heads uuuuuuuup!" is heard when Ruby falls from the sky and crash lands on the ground.

She began to panic as the ground got closer, there was nothing but an open field with nothing to slow her decent.

'Maybe I didn't think this through,' she thought.

Just before she hit the ground, Jaune comes flying through the air and crashes into Ruby, knocking her off course and sending them both into a tree to the left of Blake and Yang. Ruby sat there dazed from the rough landing and watched as cutsey Beowolves and stars danced around her head.

"Just thought I'd drop in," she unconsciously said, not even noticing the fist bump Yang just threw.

"Eh-hem!" Jaune finally coughs, snapping Ruby out of her daze. Ruby looked up and saw Jaune hanging upside-down from a tree. "Hey Ruby…." he waves.

"Did your sister just fall from the sky?" Blake asks Yang suddenly.

Yang looks at blank and says "I…."

"YEEE-HAWWW!" a voice scream from behind the trees.

Everyone watches as an Ursa comes charging out from the forest, claws swiping as pink blasts of energy struck it in the back. The Ursa crashes to the floor, depositing its rider.

"Awwww…." whined a saddened Nora, "It's broken."

She jumps onto its neck to observe the carcass as Ren came up behind her.

"Nora!" he pants while leaning on the monster for support, "Please…...Don't ever do that again."

He stands up and quickly straightens himself out, and notices the pink dotted outline of where his partner should be. He quickly realizes that Nora had run off again and began frantically looking around for her. Nora, now at the temple was staring at a golden rook piece.

"Oooohhh…." her eyes shined, she snatches it and began dances and sings while swinging it around. "I'm queen of the castle! I'm the queen of the castle!" she sang.

"Nora!" Ren cries.

She stopped dancing with the rook on her head, she salutes, drops the relic into her hand and replies "Coming, Ren!"

She skips off to her friend.

"Did that girl just ride in on an Ursa?" Blake asks.

"I…." Yang started.

She is interrupted once more as a screech is heard from her right as Pyrrha Nikos comes onto the scene as a Death Stalker uproots entire trees in pursuit of her. Pyrrha narrowly dodges its giant claws as she kept on running.

"Jaune!" she cries.

"Pyrrha!" he cries back.

Ruby then stood up, staring at the monster below.

"Whoa!" she murmurs before running off the branch and landing in a roll on the ground.

"Ruby!" Jaune protested as she left him hanging.

"Ruby!" Yang shouts to her.

"Yang!" she excitedly cries back and runs over to give her sister a hug.

"Nora!" she shouts as she jumps in between the two knocking them over.

"Did she just run all the way here with a Death Stalker on her tail?" Blake asks the air while watching the Death Stalker continues to chase after Pyrrha.

Yang started to get angrier and angrier as she erupts into a small burst of fire and her eyes flashed red.

"I can't take it anymore!" she roars, "Can everyone just chill out for two seconds before something _crazy_ happens again!"

A full two seconds of absolute silence passed as Yang started to cool down. Ren ran over to a ditzy Nora while Blake and Ruby looked up.

"Oh there she is!" Ruby shouts.

Yang lets out a "Hm?" before looking up as well.

* * *

"That girl's gonna be the death of me," Weiss breathes as she watches Ruby's landing from above.

She takes a deep breath and grunts "Just like jump-school."

With that, she lets go and plummets to the ground.

* * *

"Now she's falling," Blake comments.

"She'll be fine," Ruby waves it off and points back at herself saying "After all look at me."

Blake deadpans and asks "Ruby, how did you land again?"

Ruby's eyes widened in shock before gasping, "Oh crap." She frantically looks around her and asks "Where's Jaune?!"

Blake awkwardly points at the tree where Ruby had left him. At this point, Jaune had finally gotten himself free. He looks up at the falling Weiss and lets off an opportunistic grin. He jumped off the branch with his arms outstretched, catching her.

"Just ...dropping in?" Jaune smiles charmingly ...or at least trying to be anyway.

Weiss lets out an exasperated sigh before replying "We're still falling idiot."

Jaune looks down and starts screaming. They land in a loud thump with Weiss sitting elegantly on top of Weiss.

"My hero," Weiss stated mockingly.

"My back," he groaned.

"Not quite what I call sticking the landing," a voice calls out.

Weiss looks over and sees Anderson's group had just arrived.

He offers his hand and continues "I could've sworn we never learned that at Jump-school."

"Well I lacked the proper equipment so I had to make do," Weiss replies while accepting the hand and getting pulled up. "Thankfully I landed on something quite soft."

"You're welcome," Jaune groans.

"Salutations!" Penny boisterously greets the others.

"Penny!" Nora shouts excitedly before dashing over and picks her up in a massive bear hug.

Penny, not even affected, happily returns the hug.

"Hi Blake," Adam politely waves.

"Hi Adam," she smiles and waves back.

"Anyway," she looks over at the Death Stalker still chasing Pyrrah as she made it over to the group, "We got company."

Another thunderous roar was heard and the attention was drawn to the treeline as the Rhino burst forth into the clearing.

"You've got to be kidding me," Anderson groans.

"Sir we got incoming!" Streicher bellowed from behind his scope. "*Vichukhas!"

Anderson looks over and sees two giant, anthropomorphic-bat like creates flying overhead. They both let out a loud, tiger like roar as they drew in closer.

"Well this is quite the party," Seneivev jokes.

"I know right?" Yang laughs, "Now we can all die together!"

"Not if I can help it!" Ruby definitely says before charging at the Death Stalker.

"Scatter!" Anderson barks as the Rhino come charging into the group.

Seneviev was closest and was only able to throw up a barrier before being slapped to the side by one of the Rhino's powerful arms. Streicher manges to vault off of the rampaging Rhino before snapping up his Barrett and fires off three rounds into the monster. The rounds tore chunks out of the Rhino's armor making it only grow angrier as the wounds slowly began to close back up.

Rhino's attention was now focused on Streicher as it charged him at full speed. Streicher activates his semblance and time slowed as he ducks under a swipe and dives to the left avoiding another. As Streicher left, Adam jumps in and starts hacking at the Rhino while Seneivev, who has now recovered opens off with his machine gun into the Rhino's exposed back.

Rhino reacts by flat out grabbing the blade, surprising even Adam and punches him in the face, knocking him to the ground. The Rhino then grabs Adam by the foot and slings him directly into Seneviev knocking them both several feet back. Penny and Streicher jump in to engage the Rhino once again.

"Damn, that thing just regenerates everything we do to it!" Adam frustratingly growls.

"Can your blade slice through anything?" Anderson asks Adam.

"Not everything but close to it," he replies.

"Think you can cut down that tree?" he points a massive sequoia in front of them.

"Guys!" Jaune shouts drawing their attention, "Those things are circling back around."

He points at the Nevermore and Vichukhas.

"What are we gonna do?" Jaune asks.

Weiss stares the relics and back at the group.

"Look, there's no sense in dilly-dallying. Our objective is right in front of us," Weiss reminds them.

"She's right. Our mission is to grab an artifact and make it back to the Cliffs," she nods to Weiss, "There's no point in fighting these things."

"That might be a problem," Anderson comments, "Some of us haven't gotten a relic yet."

"Well go grab them and let's get the heck outta here," Yang says urgently.

"No," Anderson shook his head.

Yang looked at him as if he were insane.

"Look, these things are not gonna let us off easy," he tells them, "We're going to have to fight them either way."

"What do we do then?" Blake asks.

"Divide and conquer," Basuda spoke up.

"Excuse me?" Yang asks.

"Pick a monster and separate it from each others," he adds.

"That just might work," Jaune says hopefully, "These things gotta be easier to fight by themselves."

"Right, come on," she shouts to her team, "We'll lead the Nevermore and Death Stalker to the cliff, it'll be easier with the higher ground."

Anderson nods, "And we'll keep the others here and catch up with you later."

Weiss bites her lip and says "Don't die," before running off with the others.

A couple of them fired off shots drawing both the bird and scorpion after the group.

* * *

At this point Stretcher manages to land a few good slices with his sabre onto the Rhino's back before it swipes at his legs causing him to fall over.

"Perry, his eyes!" Basuda shouts as an ethereal, white falcon surges forth, striking the Rhino before it could crush Streicher.

The strike makes it stumble back allowing him to roll away just as Penny jumps onto the Rhino and grabbed ahold of its neck. While it struggles to shake her off, Penny pulls out a massive magnum revolver and fires off six rounds rapidly into the Rhino's head. Blood spurts out from the wounds as the Rhino roars in anguish. In one final move, Penny sends hers blades into the Rhino's exposed back further exacerbating its injuries. She gives one final salute before jumping off.

The Rhino glares at the ginger before stomping its feet into the ground. Penny stands there and smiles as a grenade passes over her shoulder and detonates into its face, pushing it back. From behind Penny, Anderson walks forward as he casually loads another grenade into his launcher. He stops, aims and fires again, pushing the Rhino back further. He loads one more and repeats the process, this time, he stops and stares right at the Rhino.

The Rhino, who was a little dazed and slightly singed, quickly recovers and glares down at Anderson. Anderson simply smiles and lets out a sharp whistle. At that moment, a slicing noise could be heard, the Rhino turns around and sees Adam who backs away from something with his blade out. A loud cracking and heaving is heard and the Rhino quickly notices a giant shadow looming over it.

"Timber," Anderson smiles and the tree slams down onto the Rhino.

* * *

"Focus your fire, knock them out one at a time!" Basuda shouts.

"Hurry up with the rocket, Kowalski!" Malarkey cries as he fires up at the fliers.

"If you wanna do this job," he asks, "Then go ahead by all means. If not, then that, shut up!"

He quickly punches in the codes for the Carl Gustav's onboard-computer and sets the round for airburst. He lifts it onto his shoulders and locks on to the leading Vichukha. He fires the round and watches it streak towards the target, the lead Virchuka tries to evade but the round detonates into a cloud of superheated metal.

The lead Virchuka screams out in pain as it flies through the cloud. The shrapnel hits its eyes, blinding it and makes it start flying erratically as it frantically tries to clear its eyes with its paws. It was completely oblivious as another rounds flies up into the air and detonates right on its body, nearly tearing off its wings. All it could do was scream as it helplessly fell from the sky.

Kowalski loads in his last round before lifting back onto its shoulders and taking aim at the final Vichuka. The flier quickly learned at the expense of the other Vichukha and dove downward as the round detonated some distance above. It roared triumphantly as the shrapnel harmlessly bounced off of his tough hide. It locked onto Malarkey who was firing everything he had at it. It narrowed its eyes and dove once again.

"Get down!" Kowalski screams and shoves Malakrey to the floor.

The Virchuka instead swipes up Kowalski off the ground and he lets out a panicked scream as he is dangled like bait on the end of a fly-fishing rod.

"Nate!" Penny cries.

As Kowalski is helplessly dangled from the claws of the Vichukha, he makes direct eye contact with the beast. It roars in his face and raises one of its free claws and prepares to swipe at him.

"Oh no you don't!" Kowalski grunts.

He swings his CZ-75 up and empties the entire magazine directly into its face. At this point, he was high enough and the Vichukha just drops him. He lets out another scream as he sees the ground rushing towards him. He is suddenly picked up once again, this time, it wasn't the Vichukha, but instead Basuda's condor who safely carries him back to the ground.

"Nate!" Penny rushes over to him and immediately starts checking him over for injuries.

"Hey, it's going for another dive!" Streicher barks.

"Sergeant!" Kowalski reaches into his belt and throws something at him, "Semtex!"

Streicher catches it, quickly pulls the pin and activates the fuse. He pauses for a moment as the Vichukha dives closer. Right before it can swipe at him, Streicher side-steps it and sticks the Semtex to its left wing. He watches as the Semtex flashes red a few times before exploding in the air and the remains of the monster falls back to Remnant.

Streicher snorts confidently, "Fucking bitches."

"Hey," Anderson calls over to them.

Streicher looks over and notices the giant tree on top of where the Rhino had been.

"All good?"

"Yes sir," Streicher replies.

"Hey Captain," Seneviev falls over. "Catch."

He shows him one of two black knight pieces and throws one over. He catches it and examines it.

"How fitting," Basuda comments as he walks over with a black queen piece.

"Well, I am a cavalryman," Anderosn looks over and asks, "How about you?"

"I am infantryman at heart," Basuda smiles, he shows off his relic and says "Queen of battle." He lowers the relic and turns to the cliff, "It looks like the others are doing fine as well."

They walked over and saw the headless Nevermore stuck to the side of the cliff, and finally Ruby who stood triumphantly at the top of the cliff with her cloak blowing in the wind. As the group walked up to the others, Yang was the first to notice them.

"Hey, you made it!" Yang smiles, "You missed the whole show."

"It's alright," Anderson shrugs, "We're gonna be here for four years, plenty of time to make it up."

* * *

"Russel Thrush. Cardin Winchester. Dove Bronzewing. Sky Lark."

The screen of the auditorium shows each of their profiles as the boys are lined up for the applauding audience to see as Ozpin continues.

"The four of you retrieved the black bishop pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team CRDL, led by... Cardin Winchester!"

The audience gives one more wave of ovation, while another four students walk up to the stage to take their places in front of the headmaster.

"Jaune Arc. Lie Ren. Pyrrha Nikos. Nora Valkyrie. The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team JNPR."

Amidst the clapping, Nora laughs and gives Ren a hug.

"Led by... Jaune Arc!"

Jaune blinked owlishly, "Huh? L-Led by...?"

"Congratulations, young man," Ozpin smiles.

A grinning Pyrrha offers a friendly shoulder bump to Jaune, but the "fine leader" is accidentally knocked over and falls onto his butt in front of the laughing audience.

"Blake Belladonna. Ruby Rose. Weiss Schnee. Yang Xiao Long."

He motions over to the four as they stand before him.

"The four of you retrieved the white knight pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team RWBY. Led by... Ruby Rose!"

Weiss looks to her in surprise, as was Ruby who was in obvious shock as Yang goes over to hug her sister.

"I'm so proud of you!" she cooed.

The next team takes their place and Ozpin continues on.

"Robert Streicher. Nathaniel Kowalski. Penny Polendina. Maxim Basuda. The four of you retrieved the black queen pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team BRPN. Led by...Maxim Basuda!"

A smile breaks Basuda's face as he accepts the position.

He pulls out a flask from his breast pocket and says to his team, "Congratulations are in order."

As the four leave, the final team approaches.

"And finally: Evan Malarkey. Grant Anderson. Alexander Seneviev. Adam Taurus. The four of you retrieved the black knight pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team GATE. Led by ...Grant Anderson."

On instinct, Anderson snaps into a salute. Weiss smiles at her friend, he was a soldier through and through.

"I expect great things from you, young man," Ozpin smiled.

"Thank you sir," Anderson replies.

"It looks like things are shaping up to be an... interesting year," Ozpin comments to himself.

* * *

 **12 Months Ago:**

Off over the skies above the Atlas wilderness. A sound broke through the air as an unknown flying object broker through the clouds. It was trailing smoke as it flew over the tundra. Unbeknownst, it was being observed by a recon group as they tracked its flight direction and made plans while another picked up a radio.

* * *

 **Author's Note: That's the end. No new things to talk about this chapter. The teams are formed and now the story is set. I hope you enjoyed the story so far and I hope you keep on reading. Now, for those wondering, yes Penny did pull out a revolver, it's going to be a recurring motif if you will, the "Pistol Club." A sort a feeling of trust, and as more people join, they will have a handgun that gets featured at one point in the story. It's nothing too big, it's just a small detail I wanted to add. On another note, I plan on making more news on what exactly the Prometheus Aerospace Corporation has been up too and what other projects have gone into production, that is going to come soon. Also, the word "Vichukha" is what the "Demons" were called in the** _ **Metro**_ **novels, I liked the name more so that's what we're going with. They'll be a couple other creatures I may pull but only a couple. They will be revealed all in due time. On a final note, Weiss may seem more mature now, but at some point, there is only so much a person is going to toeralte and she will blow up on someone at one point, whether it is Ruby or not is up in the air, but it will happen. Either that or I write an entirely new character arc for a chacter that is acting a bit OOC than in the show. Remember, big brother is watching.**


	21. Skull Rain

**Author's Note: This is another flashback for a quick second, it's some more equipment teasers and other things. I got a few more things I need to cover before I go back to Beacon, but I kinda needed to do this at some point, sooner or later. I got a complaint earlier that my transistions are too abrupt, I tok a look back and, well it is kinda right. Also, I think Atlas can really benefit from some proper gunships, so in this chapter I am introducing one I know many hear should be able to guess without looking at the codex at the end of the chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Skull Rain

" _Then the LORD rained brimstone and fire upon Sodom and Gomorrah, from the LORD out of heaven," Genesis, 19:24_

 **18 Months After Initial Arrival:**

[Compiled before you are a handful of interviews from random soldiers in the Atlas Expeditionary Force. These are their stories, these are their lives.]

A soldier is seen with a technician helping place a mic onto his uniform.

[Directed by Kenny Waters]

"Okay, so I just talk into the camera?" the soldier asks.

"Yeah, don't worry we'll ask you the questions," the interviewer reassured.

"Okay," the soldier nods.

[Cosmic Pictures Presents….]

"Okay, please state your name and rank for the camera, and tell us what your job is," the interviewer instructs.

[Terminal Boots]

"Hi um ...I am Specialist John Porter," a young, 25 year old, auburn haired man introduced.

…..zzzzz….

"I'm PFC Jaime Winters," said an 18 year old, short, female, white faired, owl fanus.

….zzzzz…..

"I am Warrant Officer Nancy Polaski," announced a blond-haired, green-eyed, mid 30s woman in a jumpsuit.

….zzzzz….

"SGT Gregory House," said a middle-aged man in a bandanna as he lit a cigarette, occasionally glancing at the camera.

…..zzzzz….

"I am Captain Bradley Osiris," said a late thirties, tall, black man in a jump-suit, and aviator sunglasses.

….zzzzz…..

 **Specialist Porter:**

"What is it you do in the Expeditionary Force?"

"I'm a Cav-Scout, we do basic recon and Intel gathering," replies Porter, "My job specifically in my unit is to drive the APC."

"Can you tell us anything about it?" asks the interviewer.

"Well," he scratches the back of his neck, "I can tell a little bit."

He turns to the APC.

"It's called the M12 Dragoon," he explains, "Its job is to basically carry me, another guy, plus 9 other men safely into combat. It's got a 30mm Bushmaster auto-cannon and a coaxial-mounted .30 caliber machine gun. It's mine resistant and its armor can take in a fair amount of punishment."

"What do you like about it?"

"Well," he laughs, "The Bushmaster, obviously, that thing is ungodly accurate. Like, I'm talking like ...knocking car sized objects out at up to 3000 meters. I mean, it also jams like every other second ...so there's that."

* * *

 **Private First Class Winters:**

"What can you tell us about your job?" the interview asks Winters.

"W-well," Winters stutters, "I'm a FiSTer which stands for Forward Support Team."

She then dons a big smile and says "Basically I tell the things make that go boom where to shoot."

"What can you tell us about your equipment?"

"What's there to tell?" she excitedly chatters.

"It's a fuckin-" she blushes and places a hand over her mouth, "I'm sorry, can I cuss?"

"You can cuss."

"Fuck yeah!" she pumps her fist, "Anyway ...what's there to tell? It's a pair of these…." she holds up a set of binoculars, "A map and a radio."

"See that?" she points to the artillery emplacements, "It's a self-propelled 155mm howitzer. I call her Bertha. With my equipment, I tell the arty boys exactly where to land their rounds."

"How accurate can you fire your weapon?"

"Pffff," she confidently laughs, "Give me a properly designated map and a radio and I can land the majority of my rounds well within 100 meters of the target within 60 seconds...and this is all while being at least 20 klicks back at a fraction of the cost of a cruise missile. You see the thing is-"

"Call from a fire mission!" a voice calls in the back.

She freezes and goes wide-eyed. Practically bouncing up and down now, she "Awe, hell yeah!"

She grabs the camera guy and positions him so that the howitzer is in full view, "Come on you gotta watch this!"

The camera watches an operator calls out coordinates and the gunner punches them into a computer.

"READY!" the SGT announces.

"You may want to cover your ears for this," Winters warns.

"FIRE!"

The earth shock and a thunderous clap is heard as the cannon fires. It fires with such a powerful force that the recoil kicks up a huge cloud of dust covering the entire area. As the dust clears, the SGT barks an order and the team rush in to clear the canon.

"Whoooooo!" Winter cheers. "I fuckin' love that rush!"

* * *

 **Warrant Officer Polaski:**

"So I fly the UH-1 Iriquois," she explains, "UH stands for Utility Helicopter, it's ...uh, just means general use. We use them for basic troops and equipment movements, but there is a gunship variant which where we strap missiles and guns to to it."

"What exactly is a helicopter?"

"Well," she drawls, "They fill the same roles as Bullheads, they just have different means of propulsion."

She pints at the parked helo and explains "The Huey uses to rotor blades, the large one provides lift while the tail rotor provides direction."

"Do they have any benefits over Bullheads?"

"Well, there are a couple," she replies, "I mean it is certainly less cramped than a Bullhead cockpit, and it definitely punches well above its weight."

"What do you mean?"

Polaski ponders for a bit before answering.

"Well…." she muses, "For starters, it's smaller. For the occupying space of a Bullhead, I can fit two Hueys with their rotors folded back and still have room to spare. It also barely weighs a third of the weight, can either carry twice the capacity of passengers from a Bullhead or almost 8,000 kgs of equipment."

"What's the comparison between the two like?"

"Well, Huey's are definitely a bit noisier, especially without the sound dampeners," she laughs, "We tend to fly with the doors open when we're carrying passengers, if they didn't wear ear-protection….you could have some potential permanent hearing loss. It's also not as fast so it takes a little longer to get to places."

"Anything else?"

She places her hands under her chin before responding.

"It's not nearly as durable as a Bullhead, let me tell you that," she replies, "I've seen the Bullheads tank some serious amounts of damage, I can't say the same for the Huey, I mean it is armored against small arms, but not as much as the Bullhead, and there's a reason for that."

"And why's that?"

"It's the fuel," she replies, "The Hueys try to use as little dust as possible ...save for the sound dampeners and maybe a little anti-gravity dust. Other than that, we use this stuff made from kerosene called JP-8 or jet fuel."

"So it's safer than dust?"

"That's putting it lightly," she snorts, "I've never had to worry about sneezing next to exposed dust whereas you can drop a lit cigarette into a pool of JP-8 and it won't ignite! It's also a lot more resistance to higher temperatures than the traditional dust fuel."

"Why is that?"

She shrugs "I dunno, I don't make the shit. I just know that it's the reason I don't complain as much as other people do about these things."

* * *

 **SGT House:**

"I'm Sergeant Gregory House," he lights a cigarette, "And I am the leader of Fire Team Alpha as well as the platoon's medic."

He glances off to the side and rolls his eyes.

"I swear the amount of stupid I have to deal with on a daily basis," he grumbles, "It's doubled now since I am both a medic and an NCO."

"Is it really that bad?"

"No," he shakes his head, "Most of the grunts usually aren't that bad, though they do get up to some rather dumb shenanigans sometimes and usually I have to deal with the aftermath. But those other guys ..."

He takes a drag from the cigarette.

"You know out here?" he asks, "The only reliable person you can rely on is yourself and the guy next to you…." he looks at some of the training soldiers, "And some of these guys….I wouldn't even trust them with my car keys."

Here turns back to the camera.

"Take that new guy for example," he points at himself saying "I didn't pick him, and yet here he is."

* * *

 **Chief Warrant Officer Osiris**

"I'm a cargo pilot," he lifts up a helmet and jokes "As if it weren't obvious."

"What can you tell us about your job?"

"Unfairly long hours with poor service," he raises his hands defensively, "Don't get me wrong, I love the Globemasters we fly. I personally can't name another aircraft that can carry haul almost a hundred tons of cargo for over four thousand kilometers in less than five hours unrefueled."

He pauses for a moment.

"There is one thing though," he sighs, "These birds do have VTOL capabilities, but do to the weight, we can really only use it when we land. When we take off with a full load, we still need almost a kilometer of runway to get off the ground."

"These aircraft aren't armed are they?"

"Nope," he shook his head, "Not usually. I mean to do carry things like flares, decoies, and stuff like that, but otherwise no weapons."

"Aren't you worried about Grimm? Aren't your aircraft at risk to attacks."

He nods, "They definitely are a danger. You see, our cruising altitudes are between 12000 to 14000 meters. Well above all recorded sightings of Grimm, the issue is when we take off and land, because yeah we operate at heights where they can't reach us, but we still have to live long enough to get up there and back down from it."

"Are there any um ...is there anything you can do about it?"

"In known Grimm areas, we require an escort for take off and landing," he replies, "Usually Bullheads, Hueys or whatever the Air Corp has available at the time. I had a pair of Warthogs as an escort once, that was cool….unescescary….but cool."

* * *

 **Euphrates Plains- Southern Atlas**

Over the flat, slated plains drove a vehicle platoon of up-armored humvees in a column formation. Each of them were decked in full regalia with a mounted weapon, save for the command vehicle which instead had a canvas hood on the back. The column quickly merged behind the lead vehicle forming a line as they drove across the land.

" _Oscar Charlie, how copy?_ "

" _Hitman_ ," another replies.

The first voice says " _Yeah, Misfit Two-One, Two-Two is ready for you, Nine-One._ "

Hitman 2-1 switches the radio to the platoon comms and says " _All Hitman Two Victors, maintain speed, maintain dispersion, 50 meters._ "

Some more radio chatter goes off as all the guns on the humvees turn to the right at some unseen target.

In the lead vehicle, the Sergeant observers the empty plains,

"See anything, Garza?" he asks.

"Something at one o'clock," the gunner replies.

The sergeant raises his rifle and looks into the scope, quickly spotting the targets.

"Four *T-55s at one'clock-two kliks," he sharply reports.

The driver picks of the radio and says "Hitman, this is Hitman Two-One. Enemy Contact, Four T-55s, one o'clock, two kills, how copy?"

"Garza, contact right!" the sergeant shouts, "Enemy foot-mobiles, four o'clock, 300 meters, by the berm."

Garza immediately swings his .50 to the target and pulls the charging lever as more rado heater goes off.

"This is Hitman Two-One, roger that," he acknowledges.

Garza immediately lets loose with his .50, blasting at the confirmed enemy infantry. Down the line, all the other humvees armed with a mixture of Mk. 19s, mini-guns, and other .50 cal. HMGs open up as well adding to his fire. Amongst the fighting, the SAW gunners and rifleman inside the humvees open up on their targets as well.

Up in the air at 2500 meters flew a massive, straight winged, turbo-prop driven aircraft that had been providing air cover for the convoy.

" _Misfit Two-One, cleared hot,_ " the voice radioed to them.

"Copy!" the operator replies. "Cleared to engage all hostiles."

The aircraft tilts slightly and opened up with its 40 mm Bofors cannon sending several round down range. The team in the lead Humvee back on the ground watched with excitement as the entire marked area is lit up from the rounds.

"Yeah, get some!" the driver cheers.

"Watch your sectors!" the sergeant barks.

" _Misfit Two-Two, cleared hot,_ " another soldier reported.

Right as the soldier finished his sentence, a 105 mm round comes streaking down and decimates the enemy armor. It is quickly followed up by more 40mm rounds pounding what's left of the armor into dust.

"Is there any contact on the left?" a soldier in the Humvee asks.

"Contact right," the sergeant announces, "RPG team, two o'clock, 500 meters, behind the truck."

Garza swings his .50 back onto the two clock before he resumes firing.

"Shit," the previous soldier disappointingly signs, "We'll get some later."

They watch as rounds immediately start pelting the truck as the Humvees drive by, one of them lands a lucky grenade on the fuel tank and the entire truck goes up in a brilliant flame.

" _This is Hitman Two. We have suppressed a Zil six by six. Request that Misfit pushes north to sweep flank to search for possible targets._ "

" _Misfit Two-One, copy._ "

"We barbecued them rebels!" the driver laughs.

In the Humvee behind the lead vehicle, the driver slumps forward and the truck drifts off to the side, away from the formation.

"Oh shit!" Garza curses.

Amongst the frantic shouting, a voice over the radio wrung out, confirming the fears of everyone in the platoon.

" _Bravo Two-One, man down!_ " the sergeant in the Humvee frantically screams.

The driver looks on in worry as the shouting continues.

" _Echo Four Lima is down!_ "

"Lily's hit! He's hit!" Garza told the others.

He looks back at the Humvee while the sergeant reports "He's stopping."

The sergeant picks up the radio and says "Two-One Bravo, this is Two-One Alpha, interrogative."

" _Push, push, push,_ " the voice ordered, " _Get out of the kill zone._ "

At the hit Humvee, the sergeant orders, "Grab the wheel," as they try to steer the Humvee back into formation.

" _Two-Three, make a hole for Two-One Bravo_ ," ordered the platoon leader.

A random voice could be heard shouting "Stop the vehicles!" as they all came to a stop around the hit Humvee.

"Come here! Christenson!" a voice shouts.

"Medic! MEDIC!" another screams.

"I'm on it!" he shouts.

He jumps off of his Humvee and quickly makes his way over.

"We got a man hit! Two-One Bravo's got a man hit! Come on!"

At the site, the doc sees the hit soldier with his squad around him.

"Don't waste the morphine, doc," the Sergeant sadly reported. "My boy's been smoked."

"Is anybody else hit?" another sergeant asks.

Garza at this point had dismounted, he pulled his goggles and balaclava off before bringing out a pair of glasses.

"How's it feel motherfucker?" he growls angrily, "How's it feel to be fucking dead?"

The "dead," soldier, Lily gloomily replies with his eyes still closed, "Bro, it feels sad."

Garza's sergeant walks up next to Garza.

"I feel very alone, and also…." Lily drones, his eyes blink open before he sits up, "I gotta take a shit."

Smiles and chuckles break out across the faces of the platoon.

"Damn man," another soldier jokes, "And I had dibs on your video camera."

"Lily," the platoon leader, a lieutenant walks over, "You make a nice combat casualty. Congrats."

"Yeah, you die real good," another jokes.

The platoon leader turns to the others and announces "All right, team leaders!" He takes off his helmet, "Let's do a little After-Action on this."

"Hell yeah!" one of them shouts.

"Sir, this was the first time our boys got to live-fire any Mark-19s, .50s, and mini-guns," a sergeant comments.

"Yep," the platoon leader nods and replies back "It might be the only chance we get before we step off. Be nice if it were otherwise."

The other soldiers go back to their weapons to brass-check them.

The sergeant forms the lead vehicle comments "It would also be nice if we got batteries for our PEC-Fours and PEC-Thirteens."

"Our Ops Chief assures me they're coming," the lieutenant replies. "I'm assured of this."

Back at the Humvee, Garza pulls a .50 cal round from off the belt and says "I've never seen a .50 cal fuck up a truck before. That was cool." He looks to the rest of his team, "I wonder what it would look like if it hit a person."

"At least you got to fire yours," his teammate replies, he glances at his SAW, "She didn't even shoot off round one."

The driver rolls his eyes before retorting "Trombley, if you keep talking to your weapon like it's trim, everybody's gonna know you're a total psycho."

Trombley frowns and walks off passing the lieutenant as he was demonstrating something to the sergeants and using rocks as examples.

"...Good dispersion," he comments, "We were good until Espera's team went down. You slowed your vehicles. You don't stop in a kill zone."

"You mean maneuver past the vehicles down and leave them?" a sergeant asks skeptically.

"You know the S.O.P.," the Lieutenant replies. "Assault through the ambush, if anybody's left behind, you maneuver to do support by fire."

"None of us are good to anybody if we're dead," the platoon sergeant agreed.

The sergeant from the lead Humvee raises his head and counters "Sir, not to question the S.O.P., but if we have a disabled vehicle," he pulls two rocks aside and positions them, "The nearest element could stop and evaluate the soldiers while other elements push through and provide support by fire."

The lieutenant ponders the idea for a bit before looking to his platoon sergeant who nods in agreement.

"Yeah, that works Brad," he replies, "But only if you don't let emotions take over as your asses the situation, but on principle it works. It's good." He wraps up the report and announces "All right, we got half an hour to get back to Mathilda for chow."

Later, Sergeant Espara is seen walking off to meet the medic from earlier.

"Fucking Euphrates man," he shook his head.

He stops and looks over to the medic as he watches something on the horizon before opening his pants to relieve himself.

"Doc, you see anything?" Espara asks.

"Aircraft flying by," he comments.

Espara glances at the object too, he notices the straight wings and asks "It's just the gunship returning to base."

"It's too small," Doc shook his head.

Espara squints his eyes, "Probably just the Air Corp, running some mission we didn't hear about then. They always got shit running around in the same training area" He then stops as he notices something trailing from the back of the aircraft.

Doc's eyes widen slightly, "It's also smoking…." He starts to slowly back up, "And it's also heading right for us."

The roaring from the damage craft grew even louder as it grew closer and Espara frantically screams "INCOMING!"

Everyone immediately scramble for cover as the aircraft roars past them and slams onto the ground while skidding past them.

"Come one let's go!" Espara barks, "Let's get them out of there."

The lieutenant and Brad come running up as soldiers all around worked to get the pilot out. Brad looks at the craft before him. It was similar to some of the aircraft currently used by the EF, but it was also different. Brad just couldn't place it, but it just seemed older, like it was from a previous time than their current crafts.

It was powered by a propeller but only had one on the nose, and unlike the gunship from earlier, it looked like it could only fit one pilot. It had, flat, straight wings and was painted yellow on the nose while the rest of the body was painted woodland green.

"You ever seen anything like this before, sir?" he asks.

"No," the Lieutenant breaths.

They both took note of the particular markings, first, painted towards the back of the craft on both sides was a black, cross like shape with a white outline. Second, was a red, bird like emblem painted under the right side under the glass canopy.

* * *

 **Author's Note: I have been meaning to put this in for a while, this is to introduce some more equipment as well as something extra for the story. The last sequence is an easter egg from an HBO miniseries, the radio chatter is what I got from the transcripts or if they seem grammatically incorrect, it's what I found. The guys from the interviews and the last scene aren't gonna be recurring characters, they're basically cameos. I hope you enjoyed reading and I'll see you later. Big Brother is watching.**

 **Codex: I generally don't like having large codex's or author's notes, so I use these as sparingly as I can.**

These are just the vehicles,. Stats are not included, but note they're different from their real world counterparts to to enhancements and modifications made with dust and technology from Remnant. The armament of the combat craft may be listed. This isn't the complete list, the rest are in the works. Those with () next to their real names are what they'll be called in Remnant.

Whether or not they are in any serious numbers is not important, we have three volumes until the Battle of Beacon, I believe that is about two years give or take, maybe one and a half. If Atlas is anything like the United States, then they should be able to mobilize a sizable force in that time frame. The First two years after the team's arrival at Remnant is the developmental phase, which places their time in Beacon as the production phase.

 **Helicopters:**

UH-1 Iroquois

-x2 70mm Hydra rocket launchers

-x2 pintle mounts for .30 caliber machine guns or mini-guns.

CH-47 Chinook

-x3 pintle mounts, two at the shoulder window, one at the rear. X2 MK. 19s at the shoulders, and an M3 Browning at the rear door. M3 Browning is a Browning with its rate of fire raised to 1000 rpm or higher. It's a real gun.

M/AH-6 Little Bird

-x2 7-tube rocket launchers

-x2 M314 mini-guns

-They can also be armed with Mk.19s, stingers, hell-fires, and .50 cal.s.

 **Airplanes:** All airplanes have vertical landing capabilities, they require an airfield to take off, most of them can take off from a battle-cruiser with the assistance of an electromagnetic powered catapult.

Cargo/Utility:

A400M Atlas

C17 Globemaster

C5 Galaxy

E-3 Sentry AWACS

KC-135 Stratotanker

Combat:

MQ-1 Predator

-750lbs of payload, either hellfires or stingers

MQ-9 Reaper

-3,000lbs of payload, I'll let you imagine what it can carry.

A10 Warthog

-30mm Avenger Gatling cannon

-x11 mounts for all sorts of bombs and missiles, again, use your imagination.

AC130 Ghostrider

-25mm Gatling gun

-40mm Bofors

-105mm howitzer

 **Armored Vehicles: [Country of origin]**

[US] M1A2 Abrams MBT (Liberator)

-120mm smooth bore cannon

-.50 cal M2 Browning.

-x2 .30 cal. machine guns, one pintle mounted, the other coaxial

[Russia] Kurganets-2 IFV (Lancer)

-30mm Bushmaster

-coaxial mounted .30 cal

-x4 external launchers for either Kornet or TOW missiles

[US] M1296 Dragoon APC

-30mm Bushmaster

-coaxial mounted .30 cal

[Canada] M1128 Stryker MGS (Crusader)

-105mm rifled gun

-pintle mounted .50 cal

-coaxial mounted M240

-x2 M6 smoke grenade launchers

[Germany] Panzerhaubitze 2000 (Onager)

-155mm howitzer

-pintle mounted .30 cal.

[Russia] 9K22 Tunguska SPAAA (Pikeman)

-twin 30mm auto-cannons

-x8 9M311 missile launchers

 **SAM**

Patriot-ready for deployment

S-400-This in testing phase

 **Trucks**

HMMWV (Humvee or Puma)

-either an M2 Browning, Mk. 19, mini-gun, or TWO launchers. All optional.

-Can be mounted with generally whatever is needed whether it be radar or communications at the cost of having a turret.

 **Glossary:**

T-55: training drones that can either pass off as enemy armor or Grimm, usually Death Stalkers.

PEC-Fours and PEC-Thirteens: Infrared and Thermal goggles.

S.O.P,: Standard Operating Procedure


	22. Red Crow

**Author's Note: This is the last of the flashback chapters, by now it should all be caught up and any new equipment will be revealed around the Vytal Festival. I'm not using a real fighter ace guys, I'm sorry. If I were going to use a real dude, it would have been Erich Hartmann, call it a personal preference, but for this story I won't be able to make it work with a real person as a major character, note I said major. I did manage to find another Beta-reader, but it never hurts to having more than one if anyone still wants to beta-read. If notm then enjoy the story.**

 **Beta-read by Karaya 2**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Red Crow

" _And God said, "Let the water teem with living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the expanse of the sky."_ " Genesis 1:21

"He crashed somewhere in the Euphrates where he was then picked up by a passing Cav Scout platoon," said Winter.

Grant takes a step closer to the one-way mirror and takes a long look at the single occupant of the room. Sitting at the table was a lightly battered German pilot with a fully intact, well-kept Luftwaffe flight uniform with the leather jacket and all.

"Though he speaks our language, both Vale common and Mantle," Ironwood adds, "His uniform resembles nothing we have in our military. This lead us to the conclusion that-"

"He's from Earth," Grant finishes.

"Which is why we asked for you," Ironwood finishes.

Grant turns back to Winter and Ironwood, "What did you find?"

Winter turns to the evidence table and starts going down the list.

"From what we recovered off of his aircraft and when we searched him," Winter mutters, "We found his wallet, his dog tags, a field book which contains his records, some other miscellaneous equipments, some survival rations, a flare gun, and one nine millimeter pistol with two spare magazines.."

She ends at a Walther P38.

Winter continues on, "From what we have, we discovered that his name is Major Peter Vogel, he is….er was 27 years old, he is from a country called….Germany, and his blood type is A+."

"It seems he also went through the same de-aging process you did when you first arrived," Ironwood told him.

Grant remained silent as they continued on.

"He was unconscious for a full twenty-four hours after his rescue," Winter informs, "When he finally awoke, we chose to contact you."

"What does he know so far?" asks Grant.

"Well…." Winster sharply inhales, "He knows he's not on his home planet anymore, and in the time it took for you to get here, we managed to give him a brief overview of Remnant and its history."

She picks up another folder and hands it to Grant.

"That should make things a little easier for you," Winter adds, "We thought it would help if he met someone from his world."

"Whenever you're ready Captain," Ironwood nodded.

* * *

It had been some time since Peter had woken up, and in that time, he had, had his whole world view shifted on its axis. Firstly, he is no longer on Earth, he figured that part when he was surrounded by things he didn't recognize, and the fact everyone told him so only hammered in that fact. Second, everything he knew was now gone and for the first time in a while, Peter felt lost and wasn't sure what was instore for him.

Suddenly, the door opened and in walked a boy, barely 17 years old in a green, camouflage pattern uniform. The left side of his heart had the label "Atlas EF '' and the right side had his name which read, Anderson, a strangely American name which differed greatly from the color based names all over the place. He squints at the rank insignia at the center of his chest which was the familiar twin-bars which were indicative of an American captain.

"Hello," he politely greets in a familiar Southern American twang.

" _Hallo_ ," Peter greets back.

"Do you know where you are right now?" he asks.

Peter nods and replies "I believe I am in the kingdom known as…..Atlas?"

Anderson nods.

"I'll get straight to the point, I am sure you have a lot of questions," he says as he takes a seat at the table.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Captain Grant Anderson," he replies and raises his hand. "American 1st Armored Division."

Peter just stared at it suspiciously before Grant slowly retracted it back. Peter wasn't one to normally act ungentlemanly like this, but this time, things were different.

"American?" he asks.

So maybe he wasn't in another world, it was just an elaborate hoax and he had really been captured by the Americans. Peter was confused now at this point, he didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. Last he had checked, he was at war with the Americans and now here he was sitting in front of one.

Grant pauses and nods, "I'm from Columbus, Georgia specifically."

That about confirmed it for Peter until Grant says "There has been quite some that has passed, so this may be a bit of a shock."

"What do you mean?" Peter asks softly.

He was confused again, time passed from what, he couldn't possibly have been out that long.

Grant leans closer and asks "What is the last thing you remember?"

Peter closes his eyes and he is instantly met with flashes of his burning plane as he struggled desperately at trying to regain some form of control over his aircraft.

"It was Operation Citadel," he breathes, "I had been hit and I was losing altitude fast."

"Kursk?"

Peter slowly nods, Grant chose to remain silent and Peter continued.

"Then I found myself in this white room, similar to that of an office with a strange man behind a desk covered in paperwork. It was….stragen, like a dream," He sighs, "Then I woke up in a hospital bed and I had found out I had de-aged 10 years."

Grant hums and adds "I thought the same thing when I crossed over." He looks back to Peter and says "Did he tell you anything? The man at the desk."

"He told me that I had died and had been chosen and sent to another world," Peter replies, "He also said that any questions I have should be answered not long after my arrival."

Grant pauses for a moment before deciding to break out the ice, "As you can see, I am not wearing the standard US uniform."

Peter nods.

"The war is over, it's been over for sometime," Grant says softly.

Peter takes a deep breath and nervously asks "How long?"

Grant takes a hard look at him before rolling "80 years my time."

Peter slightly slumps back in his chair as he contemplates what he has just been told.

"I take it my country lost?"

Grant nods.

"I'm not surprised," Peter sadly smiles, "When I went down, sentiments over Germany's victory were becoming more….pessimistic."

"Are you going to be alright?" Grant asks concerningly.

Peter wasn't quite sure how to answer.

Grant offers sympathetically, "We're willing to offer counseling to help you cope with the change. Let me tell you, it is not an easy one, I've been there." Grant pauses for a moment to let the silence settle, "Did you have any family? Wife, children?"

"Nein, nein," Peter murmurs he immediately thought of his parents

"Death…." Peter mutters, "He told me that….in our world, we are dead and there is no way for us to go back."

Grant nods and says softly "I'm sorry."

"How many others are there?" asks Peter,

"Me and five others, three Americnas, two Russian, but we're from the same era, so not quite the Russians and Americans you would be familiar with," Grant replies, he closes the folder and continues "We're gonna try our best to help you in your transition.'"

Peter glances up finally for the first time, "The bright side is that you're mostly healed, they told me you got your aura unlocked…." he looks at him questingly.

"They explained it to me," Peter confirms.

"You should be released from the hospital soon, but there are still a few things we need to brief you on about this world," Grant explains, "We're going to be working with you in your transition, they thought it best since we are all in the same boat."

Peter glances up at Grant as he stood up from his seat.

"Thank you," Peter says.

Soon, Grant had left the room leaving Peter on his own again, it was just him and his thoughts.

* * *

 **One Week Later:**

It was a nice day in the garden and Peter thought it would be nice to go for a walk. As he sat there in contemplative silence as he took in his surroundings. For the first time in years, he wasn't in a war, at least not for the moment. His time in Atlas had gotten him caught up on history, both here and home, on dust, and a fully fleshed-out explanation of aura and semblances. Super powers and monsters a side….it's a pretty nice place, almost reminds Peter of home….almost.

"Room for one more?" a voice calls out.

Peter looks over and sees Grant walking up.

"Oh, uh, of course," Peter scoots over making space for Grant.

"How are you holding up?" asks Grant.

"It's not home," Peter muses, "But you could do worse."

"I thought the same thing when I first got here."

"The General gave me an offer," he murmurs.

"I heard," Grant replies. "You gonna take it?"

Peter thought about it for a moment.

He shook his head, "I don't know." He lets out a tired sigh, "My life has been with the Luftwaffe, never been without it." He turns, "I have no idea what I'm going to do now that I'm out."

Grant remains silent before asking "What is your passion, Peter?"

Peter was surprised by the bluntness of the question, but didn't show it.

"Say, if you entered military life today," Grant explains, "What would you miss the most?"

"Flying," Peter answers, Peter meets Grant's eyes, "You see, I was never a major subscriber to my nation's politics, my only true passion was me being in the air with me behind the controls."

"You could be a Bullhead pilot," Grant offers.

"It is not the same thing," Peter shook his head. "Those aircraft don't feel like my plane, they feel like delicate toys compared to my old rugged fighter. Also, if I were to be a pilot, I would have to subscribe to a strict set of rules limiting my freedom severely."

He glances upward towards the bright blue sky.

"You see," he murmurs nostalgically, "Up there, there's only me and my plane, only I have control. Sure I have orders, but in the end my actions are mine alone and any mistake I make could send me crashing thousands of feet down to the earth. Up there, I loved every moment, the adrenaline in my veins as I pulled high-g maneuvers, being able to see the ground below me, treading that fine line between life and death."

Peter turns back to Grant and smiles, "Anything else just….doesn't really compare."

Grant gets up and says "Follow me."

"Excuse me?" Peter blinks in confusion.

"I want to show you something."

* * *

Light breaks through the darkness as the massive doors opened revealing a large, well lit hanger.

"The General said I should give you this offer personally," Grant explains.

Peter looks on in awe, he looks back at Grant.

"Go ahead," Grant motions him forward.

At the end of the hanger, was Malarkey standing by and some engineers running around him, all doing their jobs in front of them stood two, unmistakable airplanes. They were unlike anything he had seen before, they had similarities to the planes of his day, and yet looked decades ahead as well. He wouldn't even be surprised if they could fly in outer-space!

They were both void of any propellers, meaning the only other thing they could be were jets which he had only ever seen once in Berlin during an air show. They had needle noses and sleek, delta shaped wings, and they were massive, easily twice the size of his BF-109. The one on the right was painted an industrial gray and had two massive, box shaped intakes that stuck out from the wings while the other was sunk further back and had a blue camouflage pattern. They were simply beautiful pieces of machinery with every angle fine tuned to maximize their aerodynamics.

"Peter," Grant calls out as he walks up from behind him. Allow me to introduce you to…." he points to the left, "The McDonnell Douglas F-15 Eagle…." and to the right, "Sukhoi Su-27 Flanker. These planes were built with advancements from over 30 years of lessons learned from World War 2 and on. The F-15 went into service in 1972 and the Su-27 in 1985, even still in my time, they are considered two of the best fighters ever made. They are each able to go twice the speed of sound and can both carry over two dozen missiles. Their electronics and radar allow them to engage targets well beyond their line of sight in any weather, they both are able to climb to 30,000 feet in 60 seconds, and have flight ceilings of 60,000 feet."

"How were you able to build them?" Peter almost whispers.

"Hm?"

"How were you able to build them here?" Peter asks.

"Malarkey," Grant calls over and motions for an explanation.

"The resources and industrial, military complex of the Atlas Kingdom along with some very detailed plans," he explains.

"But that's not enough to accurately reverse engineer something," Peter protested as he knew they were leaving something out.

'You're right," Grant smiles, "Our friend from _beyond_ gave us a hand. Did Death tell you about the brother gods of this world?"

Peter shook his head.

"It was Space for me actually," Peter replies.

Grant shrugs saying "Same thing." He then asks "Did they go on some rant about how the two gods were screwing around and how we were beginning to send them here to fix it?"

Peter nods again.

"Death didn't tell us much," Grant starts, "But he told us exactly what we needed and thus gave us something along to help."

Malarkey walks up and hands him a datapad.

"You see, while in most scenarios, a perfect copy of something is pretty much impossible," he continues, "But Death being Death, means he can talk to anyone he wants and thus…."

"These are the personal engineering notes for these planes," he breathes.

"It's how we were able to build as much as we have in such a short amount of time," Grant finishes. "It's not perfect, but it's pretty close."

"And we're the only ones who can see it," Malarkey ands, "For some reason the original files show up as blank to whoever's not us sees it, or at least whoever is not authorized and only _they_ can determine that…..which they also chose to not tell us about."

"You want me to fly them?" Peter asks.

"Yes and no," Malarkey answers confusing Peter.

He walks over to the F-15, "You see, these have already entered service and are about to go into production, but for CAS rolls instead, that's close air support for our boys on the ground. We built it as a strike-fighter."

"Strike-fighter?" Peter asks.

"It's a multi-role fighter that can either be outfitted for air-to-air combat, or for close air support and surgical precision strikes," he explains.

"Like my 109," Peter comments, growing more interested.

"You see back home, we never got a chance to really see these things in action, you know Cold War in all," Malarkey explains. "You read that brief right?"

Peter nodes, it still shocked him about how much his home world had changed since the end of the war.

"The US Airforce felt that since they didn't have any pressing air targets, it would be much more useful if they modified some of their F-15s to perform bombing missions. The F-15, it turns out, is perfect for this. Without dust, it has a payload capacity of 23,000 lbs."

Peter's eyes widened in shock, that was well beyond any _bomber_ from the war.

"I fear to hear what your bombers are capable of?" Peter breathes. "You want me to train fighters in these?"

"Yes," Grant says simply, "You can train a guy with his missiles, radar, and lectures all you want, but we can't teach them dog-fighting. You of all people know that nothing will ever match real experience."

Peter ponders for a moment as Grant continues.

"Peter," Grant states, "You are the Red Crow, you were an amazing fighter ace with 130 kills to your name. You know the game better than anyone, I'm talking engagements, rules, everything."

"I'm listening," Peter replies.

"We're not just talking about fighting Grimm anymore, a real war is coming and I want my guys to have every advantage they can get," Grant continues, "I'm not asking you to fight, but we need trained fighter pilots."

"So, which one?" asks Peter.

Grant blinks in surprise, that was surprisingly easy, "Just like that?"

"You're giving me a job where I get to fly these beauties and I don't have to risk my life shooting down enemy planes," Peter reasons, "Like I said, my passion is flying, wouldn't hurt if I got paid for it….even if I have to teach brand-new pilots. So which plane would you like me to teach them in?"

Grant replies, "The F-15's speed and avionics make it ideal for interception whereas the Su-27 has a greater range and maneuverability thus making it the more ideal long-ranged fighter. The F-15's a multi-role while the Su-27 s going to be our air superiority. Please note that we want them to engage the enemy aircraft and knock out as many as they can _before_ they get into dog-fighting range, but it's a skill we still want them to know. We'll provide you all the manuals on the electronics, the aircraft, and the missiles you need."

"Also, on a further note, these are heavy fighters and they are rather expensive, we do have plans for a cheaper light fighters later down the line," Malakey adds from off to the side, "But we aren't expecting a large batch of fighter pilots right away. So we'll start off with the heavies and work our way down, making our budget worth it."

"So what's the catch?" inquires Peter.

There's always a catch.

"Well….." Grant sighs, "For your cover to work, you may be asked to join a Huntsman Academy. Specifically the one here in Atlas."

"The place where they train children to hunt monsters?" Peter quirks an eyebrow.

"How good are you in a fight?" Grant asks, "I'm not gonna ask about your aim seeing as how you've shot down over a hundred planes."

"I can hold my own," Peter replies. Peter offers a handshake, "Okay, I'm in."

Peter smiles warmly and Grant returns the handshake.

"So…." Peter draws, "If we have fighters with such a long range, I assume you have plans for a strategic bomber of sorts as well? Otherwise you kind of lose the main purpose of having air superiority save for cargo escorts and the such."

Off to the side, Malarkey is seen bringing up a schematic of a long, tubular looking lane with a massive wingspan. All it said was "Project B.U.F.F." as the title.

"I think we have something in mind," Grant replies.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Damn, I haven't written this much in such a short period in a very long time. I just got bored with playing video games for a bit, and it didn't help that Epic Games deleted my character in** _ **Borderlands 3, erasing**_ **60 hours of work. Also a new semester and I was working on homework and decided I would rather write than play in my free time. The last time was when I was still writing my** _ **Red vs Blue**_ **story** _ **Through New Eyes**_ **where I was churning out a chapter a week. There's a reason I am not doing that, firstly, that story was basically the original RvB script with the reactions of my own characters, that is not what I want this story to turn into. Okay this is the last flashback, we are heading back to Beacon the next chapter. I'm gonna avoid the stealth planes, firstly, I don't see them lasting that long service wise, the B1 Lancer and the B2 are planned on being retired in like ten years whereas older planes like the F-15 are getting more upgrades so….if that's anything to go by. See you guys later and remember ...Big Brother is watching.**


	23. Rough Start

**Author's Note: Hi, I thought I would be taking a break from writing but here I am, considering my extreme boredom and the fact that I find my story growing increasingly interesting, here we are. I may be writing a lot now, but you can probably expect me to crash at some point and disappear for like two months or whatever in the near future. On another note, I'm gonna start using the characters first names from now on, hope it isn't too jarring for you'all. I mean depending on who, if it's my military characters, they'll still address each other with their rank and last names in a professional setting. When** _ **I**_ **am addressing them, I'm going to use their first. Anyway, I hope you have thus far enjoyed reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **Beta Read by: Karaya 2**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Rough Start

 **0613: 13 Minutes After Morning PT**

The door to the cupboard opens as Robert peers in, he reaches in and grabs the protein powder container. He whistles a soft tune as he pours water into his shaker bottle before adding in a scoop of powder and the shaker.

"Morning, Robert," Maxim greets as he exits the shower.

"Morning, el-tee," he replies.

Maxim turns to Nathnial, who is sitting on his bed reading the newspaper and says the same thing to him. Nathnial, due to the toothbrush hanging from his mouth wasn't able to answer, so he instead waves back. He walks over to the coffee maker just as it finishes brewing.

"Oh, who made coffee?" he asks.

"I did sir, and good morning First Lieutenant Basuda!" Penny chirps.

Robert absentmindedly walks to the window and opens it to let some fresh air in. He hears a few strange noises and pauses. He glances at the rooftop in front of their window and freezes. Sitting casually on the roof were two very familiar Bald Eagles and an Arctic Fox pup. Upon seeing what he saw, his first immediate thought was 'Yeah, looks like I really am going to need coffee this morning.'

"Hey Lieutenant?" Robert calls out.

"Yes?"

Robert, with a deadpan expression, turns back and away from the open window.

"You got some visitors," he announces.

He side steps for the window and in walks the two eagles and fox pup.

He rushes up to them and joyfully exclaims "Боже ты мой! Я не могу поверить, что ты здесь! Так приятно видеть тебя!" (According to Google Translate, roughly translates to "Oh my god! I can't believe you're here! It's so good to see you!")

"Right, I'm going to chow," Robert mumbles, "I'll meet you guys in class."

* * *

 **0850, Professor Port's Classroom**

Penny and Nathaniel made their way to their first class.

Nathanial says aloud "I sure hope Peter's going to be alright on his own."

"I'm sure he'll be fine, Nathanial," Penny optimistically replies. "He's basically taking my spot in the academy."

"Which means he'll probably end up with Ciel as a partner," Nathanial ads.

"That's a bad thing?" Penny asks curiously.

"Oh no, she's just the biggest stiff on the planet," Nathanial sarcastically retorts.

"I think it'll be good for her if someone like Peter was on her team," Penny reasons optimistically. "He'll help her open up more….be more flexible, less tied to her watch."

They stop right as they reach the classroom entrance.

"You know she's going to miss us right?" Penny adds, "After all we did spend a lot of time together."

"Penny, the majority of that time was spent watching over you," Nathanial reminded, "And by default me, because that's where the majority of your time was spent."

"Which is why it would be good for her to be around more outgoing people. Besides, she never complained about our interactions," Penny notes. "Who do you think will be team leader?" she asks.

"Peter would be the obvious choice noting his previous experience," Nathaniel replies as he opens the door, "But that would be too easy, also, we barely even talked….but she was a good listener, I'll give her that."

With that, they too enter the classroom.

"Hey guys," Nathaniel greets as the two take their seats to the right of Robert.

"Hey," Robert replies.

"Anything happening?" he asks.

"Someone's running a little bit behind," he points at the eight empty seats.

"What time is it?" Nathanial asks.

"0854," Robert replies while glancing at his watch. "If they don't hurry, they're going to be late."

As if on cue, both Teams RWBY and JNPR both come barreling through the door and end up in a dog pile on the floor.

"Oh look," Penny points, "They're they are."

After taking a brief moment to regain their composure, the new arrivals take their seats right as their professor made his way to the front of the class. As the class quotes down, he pulls out his weapon, and quietly sets it on the table in front of the boards which displayed various notes and diagrams and different species of Grimm.

As the lecture started, it was quickly coming apparent as to what type of students had filled the class. In the back, Jaune could be seen writing notes on whatever he thought was important, the lecture from the professor honestly confused him but he tried to keep up. Pyrrah noticed this and tapped him on the arm with her pen, she then points at the board as Jaune shot her a quiet "Thank you." Team RWBY on the other hand, had varying, very visible stages of interest to the professor.

"Monsters! _Demons_... Prowlers of the night!" he boasted, "Yes, the creatures of Grimm have many names, but I merely refer to them as **prey**! Ha-ha!"

Ruby, who had decided to take a small nap and had her head slumped over her desk, quickly snaps awake form the bad joke. A joke which received nothing but silence save for a few crickets chirping.

"Ahhhh…" he pauses awkwardly for a moment….before immediately picking it back up, "And you shall too, upon graduating from this prestigious academy! Now, as I was saying: Vale, as well as the other three kingdoms, are safe havens in an otherwise treacherous world! Our planet is absolutely _teeming_ with creatures that would love nothing more than to tear you to pieces! And that's where we come in. Huntsmen! Huntresses…"

He proceeds to _give_ Yang a wink, which she groans uncomfortably at.

He either didn't notice nor did he care because he just continued on "Individuals who have sworn to protect those who cannot protect themselves! From what, you ask? Why, the _very world_!"

One student got a bit too excited and jumped up from his desk and cheered.

""Ayyyy-yep!"

He stands there awkwardly for a good hot minute before he realizes that it's only him, to which he proceeds to awkwardly sit back down.

Professor Port blinks a few times before moving on like nothing had happened.

"That is what you are training to become. But first: A story. A tale of a young, handsome man... Me! When I was a boy.."

Weiss was actually somewhat entertained by this, it's not often you meet a guy who can talk so much from out of their ass. Yet, if you listen closely, there's actually some hidden message embedded in the speech like some kind of code. Thank Oum understanding poems is one of Weiss's strongest suites.

"...Despite smelling of cabbages, my grandfather was a wise man. 'Peter', he told me..."

She suddenly feels a light tap on her shoulder and she looks over at Ruby who shows her her notebook. Weiss flat out does a double take the picture she had drawn. It was a ball-with-limbs-and-a-head drawing of the teacher with stink lines coming from him and "Professor Poop" written underneath, Blake and Yang thought it was rather and both let out a giggle.

Weiss rolls her eyes and scolds "Put that way Ruby."

Ruby frowns and blows a quick raspberry, Weiss shook her head and shrugged. It just in the end really wasn't her problem. It turns out, Weiss wasn't the only one who saw Ruby's art, there were two particular sets of eyes that were watching her. The first were the steely, experienced eyes of Professor Port's while the second….they belonged to the hardened, reptilian eyes of Robert.

"Ah-heh-hem!"the professor coughed as he waited until he had their attention again. "In the end, the Beowolf was no match for my _sheer_ tenacity, and I returned to my village with the beast in captivity and my head held high, celebrated as a hero!"

Somehow in the span of this lecture, Ruby had once again, fallen asleep. Weiss, rolls her eyes and slowly reached over to wake her. It was at that point, she had this very sudden feeling of dread which left her confused. Her questions were then answered as she saw a figure slowly stand up. She freezes and her blood runs cold as she slowly turns her head to the figure.

It was Robert, who wore a completely expressionless face, all save for his eyes who were locked onto them. He then shifts his gaze to directly at her and as if she could read his mind, she slowly moved her hand back to her desk. Robert returns his gaze onto Ruby and walks slowly to her desk. Professor Port, now at this point had put a pause on his lecture and found himself entertained by what was happening.

Funnily enough, the majority class at this point had not noticed anything had changed, proving that they weren't really listening to begin with. Some of them did though, Blake was one of them and she grabs Yang instantly shutting her up and they both stop and watch a petrified Weiss. They follow her gaze as Robort silently creeps up to the sleeping Ruby. Robert raises his finger to the professor asking for a quick moment to which he nods allowing him to continue.

Robert slowly lowers his head and listens, from the small girl he heard a soft, but undeniable, snore. Without further thought, Robert rips the notebook from under her arms snapping Ruby awake in shock. Yang on reflex, stands up only to be pulled back down by Blake. Ruby, dazed and confused looks around quickly as she tries to regain her bearings. She then freezes as she sees Robert casually standing in front of her and she then gasps as she sees he is looking at her notebook. Robert glances back to Ruby and briefly takes in her reaction, he flips the notebook around and shows it to her. It was the drawing from earlier, Ruby lets out a nervous chuckle while Robert, without taking his eyes off of her, hands it over to Professor Port. Professor Port quirks his eyebrows as he looks over the portrait of him.

He laughs and comments "Interesting interpretation of me, Miss Rose."

"Eep," Ruby whimpers.

Robert finally decides to speak and he calmly and softly asks "What were you doing?"

Ruby remains frozen and he asks her again "What were you doing, just now."

Ruby stutters "I-I….I was…."

She looks around and sees that now, all eyes were on her.

"Ignore them…." Robert calls out snapping her attention back to him, "And answer the question."

There was no escaping this, Ruby droops her head down and says "I was sleeping."

"Alright," Robert dutifully replies, he returns the notebook and continues "For now, listen to the rest of the lecture and when it is over, we'll have a little chat with the professor about your behavior."

As he walks off, he says to Weiss "Make sure she stays awake this time."

"Yes, Staff Sergeant," she responds.

This wasn't Robert she was talking to anymore, it was now Drill Sergeant Streicher and she knew full well what was about to come. She did take comfort in knowing that Ruby is young and absolutely not a soldier, so at least Robert would hold back a great deal on her.

"As I was saying," Professor Port continues, "A true Huntsman must have a collection of value they must live by." He motions to Robert and says "For example, integrity and respect."

He then comes around to the end of his lecture.

"The moral of this story? A true Huntsman must be honorable!"

Weiss glances over to Ruby, who looked a little downtrodden.

"A true Huntsman must be dependable!"

Yang looked incredibly pissed, she could practically see the flames bursting around her and all Ruby could think about was her talk at the end of class.

"A true Huntsman must be strategic, well-educated, and wise!"

Weiss was going to have to take one for the team and do something to drag the attention onto her instead of her team leader.

"So, who among you believes themselves to be the _embodiment_ of these _traits_?"

Before Ruby could raise her hand, Weiss jumps up and cries "I do, sir!"

Ruby snaps to Weiss in surprise to which she sheepishly smiles.

"Well, then, let's find out!" Professor Port smiles as he turns and gestures at the glowing red eyes surrounded by shadow shaking the cage. "Step forward, and face your opponent!"

* * *

After a quick change of clothes, Weiss stood in her combat clothes with Myrternaster, ready to face the monster in the cage.

"Gooo, Weiss!" Yang cheers.

"Fight well," Blake adds while waving a small "Team RWBY" flag.

"Yeah, Team RWBY represents!" Ruby whoops.

Weiss chose to remain silent as she runs through a quick functions check on her weapon.

"Alright!" Port bellows, he walks over, next to the cage and pulls out his weapon, "Let the match... begin!

He swings his weapons and cuts through the lock on the cage, as the door falls forward, it reveals a Boarbatusk which immediately charges Weiss. Acting on reflex, she brings up Myrtenaster and deflects the attack and rolls out of the way. She looks over and see that the Boarbatusk had stopped and was now studying her.

"Ha-ha! Wasn't expecting _that_ , were you?" Port laughs.

"Hang in there, Weiss!" cries.

'This is where the fun begins,' Weiss thinks to herself.

She narrows her eyes as if challenging the Grimm before charging, the Grimm then charges as well. One particular quote flashed in her mind as she closed the distance, 'The hard part about playing Chicken is knowing when to flinch.' At the last moment, she swings to the side and stabs the blade into its neck. She failed to anticipate the Boarbatusk's strength as it manages to latch onto the blade with its tusks and pull it from her grasp as it charges past her.

"Shit," she curses as the creature turns around and taunts her with the blade still wedged in its tusks.

"Oh-ho! Now what will you do without your weapon?" Port asks.

Weiss rises to a crouch and reaches to her side where she kept something just in case this happened. From the white colored holster, she pulls out a slick Sig Sauer P226 painted in a black-ice pattern.

'I'm gonna have to knock it free it somehow,' she thinks as she glances around, she then notices the desk behind her and an idea forms. She snaps the pistol up and fires three rounds into the armored face-plate. The Grimm lets out an annoyed shriek and it charges her again, she rolls out of the way as it charges straight into the desk smashing it to pieces and knocking the sword loose.

"Bold, new approach. I like it!" Port comments.

"Come on, Weiss, show it who's boss!" Ruby cheers.

With her weapon now back in her grasp, she tries to reform a plan of attack. She racked her brain for anything she knew of the species before her.

"Weiss! Go for its belly! There's no armor underneath!" Ruby cries.

'Hmm, how about that,' Weiss muses.

The Boarbatus leaps forward into a ball and begins rolling down in her direction quickly gaining velocity as it gets closer.

"Okay, I'm gonna have to time this just right," she whispers to herself.

Right as it is about to strike her, she activates a blue and white, snowflake-shaped glyph and blocks the roll. The Boarbatusk tries to leap into the air again as the glyph starts to turn black. She held on for a moment before the glyph turned blue, briefly allowing her a small window where she thrusts her weapon forward and into the Boarbatusk's belly. Weiss watches it squeal and die before she finally shares her weapon.

She looks over to Ruby briefly and says "Good callout Ruby."

The comment was small, but judging by the smile, it meant a lot to the small girl.

"Bravo! Bra-vo! It appears we are _indeed_ in the presence of a true Huntress-in-training!" Pornt whistles as he walks over to her clapping. He turns to the class and says "I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. Be sure to cover the assigned readings, and... stay _vigilant_! Class dismissed."

As the class vacated, soon all that remained was the professor, Robert, and Team RWBY.

"You may go," Port simply says, "This discussion is between Miss Rose and us alone."

Weiss stands straighter and clears her throat.

"Ah-hem, with all do respect sir, I would like to stay with my team leader," she turns to Ruby and gives a reassuring nod.

Port looks to Yang and Blake and asks, "You as well?"

They nod.

Port turns to Robert and says "You may begin."

Robert turns and asks Ruby "Do you understand what you did wrong?"

She nods.

"Do you understand why it was wrong?"

She pauses, and then nods.

"What you did was incredibly disrespectful, Rose," Robert scolds.

Ruby remained silent.

"How old are you?" he asks.

"15," she squeaks.

"Do you want to be here?" he asks.

Ruby nods and says "Yes, more than anything."

Robert narrows his eyes and says "It must be a pretty big secret then."

Yang's eyes started growing red.

"Your performance in class basically says to the other students and the professor especially, that you don't really care," Robert tells her.

"But I do care-"

Robert raises his hands and cuts her off.

"It doesn't really matter if you do," Robert chides, "What matters is how others perceive it and right now, you look like an underaged, immature child who is sitting in a spot you really didn't deserve, nor earn."

Yang jumps up before Weiss and Blake pull her back.

"I don't think you understand what kind of scrutiny you are under right now Rose," he tells her, "You got moved up two years, that is two years worth of experience that the rest of the school has on you, two more years that these people have dedicated to being here, and worst of all, Ozpin didn't just hand you a new spot. That spot he gave you had to be taken from someone else, who actually had those two years, he took it away from that student and gave it to you. Not only that, but you're also the team leader, meaning that everything you do also reflects on how they'll view your team, do you understand?"

Ruby nods.

"I am asking that you learn to practice a little more discretion Rose," he tells her, "This isn't just some plain old combat school anymore, this is Beacon, and you need to fight to keep your spot here. If not, then those _students_ ," he glances at the closed door, "They will eat you. It is a privilege to be here, not a right, and one small phone call is all it takes to send you packing."

Ruby shrinks back in fear.

"I'm not telling you this to scare you," Robert treasures her, "I'm telling you as it is." He looks to the others, "Your skills as a leader and whether or not you belong here remains to be seen."

"Sergeant," Weiss stands up suddenly, "I can vouch for her leadership, she may be young and naive now, but with a push in the right direction, I know for a fact we will be the best team in our year!"

"And you stand by every word?" he quirks and eyebrow.

"To the end Sergeant."

"You have one hell of a team Rose, and you have a lot of potential, best not waste the opportunity he gave you, understood?"

"Yes," she answers.

"Say the words please."

"I understand."

He nods, and then asks "Now is there anything you wanna say to Professor Port?"

She turns to the jovial professor and says "I'm sorry for the picture I drew of you, and falling asleep in your class."

He smiles and joyfully says "It is fine Miss Rose, it is only the first day….but don't make it a common occurrence," he warns. He glances at the clock and says "Well, best get to your next classes. Wouldn't want to be late now would we?"

With that, they exited the classroom leaving both Robert and Port behind.

* * *

"He shouldn't talk to her like that," Yang growls.

"What are you on about?" Weiss sighs.

"Soldier boy," Yang glares, "What gives him the right to talk to Ruby like that, standing her up in front of the class?"

"Yang, I get that you're her sister and you care about her," Weiss groans, "But please shut the fuck up?"

"Hey, fuck you Ice Queen!" Yang roars, "Why are you defending him?!"

"Because he's right," Weiss calmly counters.

"Weiss don't-"

Weiss cuts her off "Ruby don't worry about it, just move on."

"Who the fuck made you in charge?!" Yang shouts.

"You heard him!" Weiss argues, "Someone here has to be the mature one and at least try to guide us onto the right path. Who's gonna do it, you?"

"I'm her sister!" Yang shouts back.

"Meaning you should know better!" Weiss shrieks, "You should be looking out for her, making sure she understands what is right from wrong! She takes after you Yang, I shouldn't have to be the one to explain this but clearly I have to because you've done a shit job thus far!"

"Shut up!" Ruby suddenly screams, "Shut! Up! Stop fighting, both of you."

Ruby finally put her foot down and it shocked both of them.

"It's clear we have a lot of work to do and we are not going to get anywhere if all we do is fight!" Ruby argues, "And we definitely aren't going to get anywhere if we don't work together, okay?"

Yang and Weiss soften their glares.

"Okay, Ruby," Yang sighs, "Deal."

"And you Weiss?"

She nods, "Deal."

Either way, they were all stuck together now and it was up to them to get through the next four years together.

Blake, who has been silent thus far decides to ask "So, where to now, Ruby?"

"Well, clearly we need to get to our next classes," she replies, "Like the professor said, can't be late to those."

"Hm, agreed," Blake nods.

* * *

Sometime later that night, Ruby was on her bunk working her notes. Weiss was making a pot of coffee, Yang was flayed out on her bed snoring, and Blake was under the covers sleeping. For a moment, she felt herself drifting, and she knew she was because she started hearing faint guitar strokes.

'No, wait, I'm not dreaming,' she thought.

The music was indeed real, and it was coming from her window. She quietly gets up and peaks out to see Evan casually playing.

"Evan?" she calls out.

"Hm," he blinks.

He looks over and sees Ruby climbing up to him.

"Oh hey Ruby, sorry did I wake you?" he asks apologetically.

"No," she replies before asking "What are you doing up here?"

"Well, it was a nice night out, and I thought it would be worth playing under," he replies, "You'd like to sit down?"

"Sure," she responds.

Evan scoots over and lets her sit down next to him.

"How you doing Ruby?" he asks.

"Um…." she blinks, "I'm fine."

Be looks over, clearly not believing her.

"What happened today in class?" he asks.

"I uh-" she sighs, "I was acting a bit childish I guess."

"And I noticed Robert was talking to you too," he observes.

"That's right," she nods.

"You wanna talk about it?" he offers.

Ruby sighs and looks off, straight ahead.

"Do people really think that about me?" she asks. "Do they really think I'm just childish and that I don't belong here?"

Malarkey stops playing as he listens.

"He said that people pay attention to how I act and how their perceptions of me could have an effect on my team," she sighs. "I don't want them to get made fun of for my screw ups, I mean, I'm their team leader and I didn't even ask for this, nor did I want it."

"Well, I'll tell you what I see," Evan replies, "I see a talented young huntress-in-training with a lot on her plate. I also see someone who was just thrown into a new situation completely alien to her. Sure you might be naive, and it'll be rough at first no doubt, but I can see that you're a fighter. You have the power to see this to the end Ruby, you just gotta put your head down and go for it. Everyone believes in you, you just gotta work for it."

"And the stuff that Robert said about me having a target painted on me?" she asks.

"Don't take what he says too personal," Evan treasures, "He's just not the kind of guy to dance around a topic, so whenever he says anything, it'll be the truth and it'll be as blunt as a hammer. You also gotta understand that we come from a lifestyle where attention to detail was one of the most important, and pressed upon lessons we were ever taught. That was literally a day to day thing we had to deal with. How we dressed, how we act, how we talk ..."

Ruby nods in understanding.

"He doesn't mean try to make everyone like you," Evan explains, "Because that'll get you nowhere pretty quick. He means, just give off the impression that you want to be here and also take those classes seriously."

His face saddens as he reminisces, "Trust me, we've seen what happens when someone doesn't take their training seriously….we've seen it many times, and it's not pretty." He looks back to Ruby, "He's just looking out for you, sure it came off as abrasive, but that's just how we are Ruby."

"You don't seem abrasive," Ruby snorts.

"What are you talking about," he jokes, "I'm like steel wool over here."

They both laugh. The two settle down after a while before Ruby glances over to his guitar.

"You know what's funny?" he asks.

"Hm?"

"Had it been barely a year ago, it would have been Weiss who blew up on you," Evan chuckles.

"Really?" Ruby asks incredulously.

"Yeah, the Weiss you know is a far cry from how she was when we first met," he replies, "In fact, she acted exactly how you thought she would have. She was entitled, spoiled, a little bratty….don't ever let her hear me say that."

Ruby lets off another giggle.

"What made her change?" she asks.

Evan thought about it for a moment before replying, "I don't really have the answer for that, but I'll tell you one thing, whatever change she went through, we may have been the reason she went down the path she did….for better or for worse."

Ruy frowns when she sees him sadden again.

"Did something happen?" she asks.

"She joined the Expeditionary Force." he replies, "She graduated from her Advanced Individual Training six months ago actually, officially making her a member. Her current rank is a Private First Class."

"That's a great thing isn't it?" Ruby inquires, "She wanted to be a part of you guys."

That seemed to sadden Evan even more.

"I didn't want her to be one of us," he sighs, he points to himself, "Our lifestyle….the military lifestyle in general, it's not something that everyone can deal with. I mean, the things I've done…..I've seen…."

Evan stutters and freezes up for a moment, Ruby gently places her hand onto his shoulder.

"No one comes back untouched," he whispers, "She's proud of us, and I don't want her to be. We had a job, and we did it, that was it." He looks back to Ruby finally, "You see….you know those veterans from the Fanus Revolution?"

She nods.

"You ever talk to them?"

She nods again.

"Then you've noticed that a lot of them have the same things," he explains, "It took me time to learn how to deal with my demons. I don't want Weiss to go through what we have, she deserves better than that." He lets out one final sigh, "But in the end it's not my choice, we can't make Weiss do anything, it's all up to her."

Ruby decides to change the topic to try and get his mind off of things.

"How about that guitar?" she asks. "Are you any good?"

Evan quirks an eyebrow at her and she points to the guitar and he laughs.

"I like to think so."

She smirks, "My dad has a guitar like that, he likes to bring it out and try to serenade my sister and I."

"Is _he_ any good?" Evan inquires.

"Not really," Ruby giggles,``But we can't say no to him, and for some reason we don't ever think it's bad, Oum forbid anyone try and talk trash on our dad other than my sister and I, only we get to talk trash." She looks back to him, "Interesting how my friend likes to play too."

"Yeah," he smiles, "People tend to flock towards people that remind them of their parents, I guess it's just a familiar sort of thing."

"Yeah, I get that," she whispers.

Ruby, was silent for a minute while he resumed playing.

She nervously glances back and forth before asking "Can you play me something?"

He stops and looks at her.

"Depends," he warns, "None of that modern pop stuff please."

"That's fine," Ruby waves it off. "You can pick, I just wanna hear it."

"Request granted."

Ean starts softly strumming.

"This is an old folk song where I am from." he explains, "It asks a collection of rhetorical questions then says that the answers are either directly in our face or that they've been lost somewhere in the wind."

Ruby sits back as he starts signing, it was a soft, rather comforting, and yet sad voice.

"How many roads must a man walk down

Before you call him a man?

How many seas must a white dove sail

Before she sleeps in the sand?

How many times must the cannonballs fly

Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind

.

How many years can a mountain exist

Before it's washed to the sea?

How many years must some people exist

Before they're allowed to be free?

And how many times can a man turn his head

And pretend that he just doesn't see - the answer

The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind

.

How many times can a man look up

Before he sees the sky?

How many ears must one person have

Before he can hear people cry?

And how many deaths will it take 'till he knows

That too many people have died?

The answer, my friends, is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind

Oh, the answer, my friends, is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind"

As the song played on, Ruby slowly found herself drifting off. Evan looks up and back at the window and sees Weiss standing with her arms crossed and a grin that stretched from one cheek to another. Evan blushed heavily as he hands a sleeping Ruby over to her, a causal goodbye is uttered and the two separate for the night.

* * *

 **Author's Note: If my story ever comes off as cheesy, I do intend there to be some amount of cheese, not a lot, but I still want cheese to be in it. I prefer Swiss and American cheese, but I'm sure we can do with other types as well. Hm, Jaune's ark (pun intended) is coming up next, which means the whole forest incident. Hmm, maybe I can fit some other character chapters in between seeing as how that was a rather large arc for Jaune, pun intended. Yeah, I think that's what I am going to do. See you guys in a bit, I hope you enjoyed reading, please leave a review and follow if you wanna see more. Remember, Big brother is watching.**


	24. Velvet Shell

**Author's Note: I can never be more sentimental enough, I really am thankful that someone found my own writings decent enough to stick around for more. Sure my story is not nearly as popular as, let's say the majority of the RWBY fan section, nor even anywhere on the radar. Even for stories about being transported to another world** _ **Final Countdown**_ **style, but it's mine, and it's been a pleasure writing it for whatever small audience I have. By the way, at some point I will have to write a chapter explaining the current world politics of my story otherwise future arcs will feel like they came out of thin air, so stay tuned for that.**

 **Beta-read by Karaya 2**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Velvet Shell

It had been a few weeks since they had all started, Pyrrah quickly picked up on the other students around her, how they acted, and how they looked at themselves. After hanging around Alex and his friends for sometime, she quickly saw the difference and it was an almost night and day difference in how they acted. She didn't even see this in the Atlas students, it was almost just that small group of eight, including Weiss and Penny.

Had she just seen them walking down the street, she would have never guessed they were in the military with how they carried themselves. Most of all was how they fought, as she recalled her fight with Alex, he never hesitated, and he never flinched. All his moves were calculated and brutally efficient, and it was even worse when he was fighting Grimm, whom she could tell he couldn't care less for, to him they were just an enemy. It seemed to him that everything he fought was just a target, he showed no regret, no remorse, no mercy, and most of all, no fear. He just reacted and she had no idea how anyone could just think like that.

Pyrrah never forgot what Alex had told her that night. His haunted and distant look as he, even for a brief moment recall his past experiences. It was no question that he had seen something in his young, tired eyes. Destiny had always been a fickle thing for Pyrrah, even from a young age she always felt that her destiny was to bring peace to the world. Though she didn't know how nor to what end it would take to achieve that, she did know one thing, it wouldn't mean a thing if she died before reaching there.

Alex was right, everything in the arena she was ever taught is close to completely useless in the field. She would have to change her entire style when out on mission, and right now, she knew exactly where to start.

"I know it's here somewhere," Pyrrah whispers to herself as she searched through the old magazines at the library. "Found it."

She pulls out an old, slightly wrinkled copy of last year's _TIME_ magazine. On the cover were six, incredibly young individuals who she instantly recognized and the title read "Prometheus's Fire."

"Knew it," she smiles and looks specifically at Nathaniel.

She picks up her scroll, finds the number and hits "dial."

* * *

"So, how did you end up on the cover of _TIME_ magazine?" she asks Nathnaial as they walked through the busy hanger bay.

"You read the article didn't you?" he asks.

"Yeah, but it only went over your invention and how it would change the world," she replies "I mean, they did briefly talk about you guys, but it was barely a footnote. I wanna hear it from you, Nate."

"Arlight," he chuckles, "Well, it started almost three years ago when six college students got together one night."

"You were in college?" she asks, a little surprised.

"Yep," he replies, popping the "P," "Most kids go to a combat school, we went to college. There isn't really an age restriction, if you qualify you get in, so that's what we've basically done for the past three years on top of our time in the military."

"This is actually starting to make more sense," Pyrrah comments as she thought about it. "So you all had similar degrees I take it?"

"No," he laughs, "Which is what made the team up even more surprising, I'm not going into the specifics, 'cause that would take too much time. Grant, he wasn't captain yet, that was a couple years off, he was preparing to take the MCAT, Max and Alex were Business majors, Law and Admin respectively, Robert was a duel major studying Physics and Mathematics. Penny would join later adding Computer Science to the mix."

"Why physics and mathematics?" she asks, curious about Robert's choice.

"He's a sniper," Nathanial noted.

Pyrrah quickly puts two and two together, "What about you and Evan?"

"Engineering, he was mechanical and I was electrical both with minors in chemical engineering," he answers.

"Wait," Pyrrah was confused, "So how did you come together then, a lot of those aren't exactly related?"

"Video games and a lot of alcohol," he replies. "So anyway, the six of us, the ballsy and stupid entrepreneurs we were, were trying to develope a new type of fuel based out of a refined kerosene."

Pyrrha could see where this was going.

Nathaniel laughs as he recalls the memory, "You see, we were trying to test the flash point….er the temperature in which it would ignite and we managed to get it to 200 degrees Celsius."

"W-what," Pyrrah sputtered in shock at the absurd number. "D-did it explode?"

"Nope," he replies, "The couch next to it caught fire."

Well, definitely not what she was expecting.

"Instead of expelling us, the university sent us to a remote farm and told us to keep working," he told her, "A few months go by, then suddenly, in randomly walks General Ironwood and Jaques Schnee, saying they wanna give us a job." Nathenial turns to her and shrugs, "And that's the story of how the Promethea Aerospace Laboratory was founded, fast-forward a few years later and we are basically the Schnees entire Research and Development department."

He opens a door that leads into the warehouse section of the hanger.

"So, what are we doing here?" she asks.

"When we came over here to Beacon, obviously we couldn't stop working, so we brought some of the stuff with us," he explains, "You see, when we were given the department, General Ironwood's next move was to send us basically every failed prototype and project that they had a record of to see if we could make any use of it. Environmental procedures, defense projects, consumer products, all prototypes, none in production on any level whatsoever." He points to a corner and says, "Over here."

He comes up to a large cabinet, unlocks it and pulls open the bottom drawer revealing a black suit of armor.

"Nomex survival suit for advanced infantry."

Pyrrah reaches down and touches the material, it felt smooth and rubbery to her.

"Kevlar bi-weave, reinforced joints," he explained and rapped his knuckles on the breastplate for reassurance, "Was built to protect soldiers from some of the heavier Grimm attacks."

"Tear-resistance?" she asks.

"This sucker was built to stop the claws of an ursa, knives were basically not an issue."

"Bulletproof?"

"Anything but a straight shot."

"Why didn't they put it into production?" Pyrrha inquired.

"Bean counters didn't think a soldier's life was worth 300,000 lien," he explains as he closes the cabinet.

"So what do current soldiers use then?" Pyrrah asks, "I assume it involves a lot more than just some fancy armor."

"You'd be right."

He walks over to a table, swings out the duffel he brought and pulls out another set, this one vastly different from the last.

"This is my set," he explains, "I got a field exercise later so I brought it in with me. It is more or less the standard combat outfit for an Expeditionary Force trooper."

He pulls out a green, form fitting top and leggings.

"This is the under-suit that we wear."

"Brought to you by Under Armour," she jokes.

"Basically," Nathanial laughs, "It's a basic temperature control bodysuit, made out of normal, high-strength cotton instead of synthetics. When it's hot, it'll loosen and allow air to flow easier added with the mesh that soak up sweat even quicker, in the cold it will contract, allowing increased insulation and it'll hug the body. These replaced the silks we used to wear," he explains, "We still have the waffles though, we're never getting rid of those."

He moves over to the uniform.

"These are our BDUs, they are loose fitting, allowing air to flow through, and when in combat, the blouse is swapped out for a shirt."

"Flame-retardant?"

"The synthetic fibers in the older uniform had the habit of grafting to the soldier's skin when on fire. For these, by the time the synthetics melt, the skin underneath would have been long cooked," he darkly jokes.

He moves over to the harness.

"This is our Modular Combat Rigging Harness made out of woven polyethylene," he points to the main body, "It's reinforced around the torso, upper thighs, and crotch. It is what we call a Type II soft-armor and will stop your basic handgun cartridges. Generally 9 mm to 45 ACP. We also treat it with a shear thickening fluid that makes this thing incredibly tear resistant."

"What kind of protection are we talking about?" she asks curiously.

"We tested it with an ice-pick and it failed to penetrate," he smiles.

Pyrrah lets out a whistle, "Just on the reinforced parts?"

"That's correct," he nods, "There are also ballistic inserts."

He pulls out a ceramic plate from the vest.

"The ones on the chest and sides are Type IV and are rated to stop six to eight armor-piercing .308 rounds before loss of plate integrity. The shoulder and thigh plates are rated III and will stop up to armor piercing .223s."

He pulls out the helmet.

"This is our ACH, the recon variant, it has holes at the top to allow the hair to breath and has the ear covers removed for improved hearing. This is also rated Type III, so it's only rated to stop AP .223s at most, but it is capable of deflecting .308s depending on the angle."

"What's the weight for all this?"

"About 18 kgs evenly distributed across the body."

"Seems reasonable, how much does this cost?" Pyrrah asks.

She imagined it would be a lot.

"They would have never bought it if it was too pricey," he replies then ponders for about as he goes over the prices, "Let's see, 400 for the harness post fluid treatment, another 250 for the helmet, 250 for the chest plates, 150 for the shoulders and thighs, 120 for the uniform, 200 for boots, 20 for gloves, 60 for the under-suit and 40 for knee and elbow pads." He does some quick math, "2,720 lein give or take."

"That's it?!" Pyrrha coughs.

"The armour and uniform, while unfairly pricey, is still rather cheap and are pretty good benchmarks for where you should be quality wise," he explains, "Remember this is the military we are talking about."

He pulls out a chart and adds "Actually, the majority of our costs come from our electronics, eye-pro with a built in hud, tactical headsets, NVGs, thermal scopes ...after all of that...to equip one trooper, it costs 30,000 lein."

"How much would all this weigh when the rifle and other equipment is added in?"

"Well lets see," he does some more math in his head, "The armor and uniform will bring you to around 20 kgs evenly distributed across the body, once you add in the weapon and all the other equipment, anywhere between 25 and 70 kgs."

"Jeez," she whistles, "I'd imagine that is quite the hassle, can't imagine that's very good on the body."

"No," Nathnial shook his head, "Especially around the knees and spine, so this was created to help protect against that, which brings us to our final bit…."

He pulls out a black frame like a construct that is wrapped around the legs.

"This is the Onyx Exoskeleton," he introduced, "It is a simple, hydraulically driven, rugged design, the frame redirects the weight and drives it into the ground, and for every 20kgs, it removes 10. It can easily be taken apart and repaired in the field, given someone has a flat-head screwdriver of course."

"And you said it's not battery powered?" she asks, impressed.

"Yep, and it's not cheap," he then tells her "You shouldn't have to worry about it too much though, unless you do plan on strapping 33% of your body to your back regularly."

She shook her head before looking back at the armor and asking "Are there any drawbacks to all of this?"

"Well it only covers the vital areas and leaves large parts of it exposed and the joints aren't reinforced leaving them more vulnerable in order to save on weight and dexterity."

Pyrrah frowns, "It still seems a little cheap for what they are meant to do. It at least works though, right?"

"Oh yeah," he laughs, "Military Grade actually means to the lowest bidder, but it is not doubt reliable and capable of performing its intended function….most of the time. It's saved my ass more times than I've bothered to count."

He starts packing everything back up before turning back to Pyrrah.

"By the way, they don't actually get any of this until after they graduate from their AIT and arrive at their first unit," he added on a final note.

"Why is that?" she asks.

"It's the same reason why we don't generally want their auras unlocked until after their BCT," he replies with a shrug, "We want them to become proficient before they have any of that, that way if they ever find themselves without their fancy stuff, they still know how to do their job and complete the mission."

Pyrrah nods in understanding,

"Right, it makes sense," she comments.

"What's funny is that if they don't get it unlocked by someone in the platoon, they tend to get it on their own either during their 40k ruck march or their Night Infiltration Course...that's where we make them low-crawl across wet sand for about a hundred meter while setting off M80s and firing off live rounds over their heads." After he finishes locking up the cabinets, with a curious glint in his eyes, he asks "So, what's your interest in all this?"

"Well…." she ponders, "You see, my arena outfit is a little exposed, especially around here," she motions at her breasts, "You can imagine why. It's pretty clear that it'll never actually hold up in combat and I was hoping for a new upgrade."

Nathaniel eyes her for a moment as if he was studying her.

"You expect to run into some rather heavy gunfire in future arena battles?" he asks incredulously.

Pyrrah smiles politely, "Well you know, people are getting rougher and violent every day. They really wanna win at the cost of safety nowadays. It's getting kind of crazy I tell you."

"You do know that the rounds needed to penetrate these plates are banned from arenas, right?" he asks, "And, all this would mean extra weight and loss of flexibility for you in said arenas?"

Lying was never her best talent. The fact that Nathnaisl was basically laughing spoke of her quality. So, she wasn't going to.

"Who said anything about arenas?" she challenges. "If we're expected to do our jobs as huntsman and huntresses, we can't treat the field like the ring right?"

Understanding, Nathanial nods.

"So," he looks her square in the eyes, "Is any of what I told you match what you're looking for?"

Well, she leans slightly closer and comments "I was actually hoping you would do a sort of custom set for me."

"Hmm," Nathnial gave the request some thought. "Do you have anything for me to go off of?"

She hands him some rough sketches and some notes and he starts looking through them. He looked over the designs before looking back at Pyrrha, he stared long and hard until Pyrrha started to shift uncomfortably.

"Are you sure about these colors?" he points to the notes that read "red and bronze."

"Yes," she nods confidently, "If it's not too much trouble."

"No, it's doable," he finally says to her, "But it'll take time, remember I still have a job to do on top of my school work, and equipment training/testing. Even with the colors, I think I can still make it practical."

"Alright," she nods.

"Also, normally the materials used here aren't that expensive," he warns, "But in order to fit the conditions needed, it's going to be a bit more expensive due to the custom nature."

Pyrrah pauses before smiling and saying "Oh that won't be a problem."

* * *

On a completely unrelated note, out walked Evan from the school post office. He read over the envelope for a moment before walking off to find a lone bench. He sat down and shifted nervously at it, unsure of what to do.

"Hey, you!" a voice snaps, ending the silence.

At the end of the empty hallway stood a long teen girl wearing a long cocoa-colored shirt with a dark brown waist cincher, a black beret and a pair of sunglasses….in doors.

"I don't think that's the standard uniform," Evan comments as she got closer.

She snorts and a smirk forms on her face as she replies back "Funny, I could say the same about you," as she points to his duty uniform. She then stops and asks "So, what are you doing out here, shouldn't you be in class?"

"I'm off this period," he simply replies.

She nods and comments "Lucky you." She then adds "Next time don't hang around the hallways, give teachers the idea that you're snooping around or whatever you freshman get up to now-a-days. Amazing what changes in only the span of a year."

Evan stiffens slightly before gathering his things.

"Right, sorry," he stands up.

The now confirmed two-yeared student waves it off, "Hey don't sweat it, come on, I'll take you to somewhere where they won't bother you."

She led him outside into the park, around which he could see other students just casually walking about or sitting under the trees.

"So what's up?" she asks, "I saw the way you were looking at the envelope and you seemed rather uneasy, everything alright?"

"It's just something work related." he replies.

"What is a possible promotion?" she asks.

"Something like that," Evan answers, "I took a course, and whether or not I passed determines…."

She nods "Gotcha, so you're just nervous then huh?"

Evan nods and glances to the side awkwardly.

"Would it help if someone else read it to you?" she offers.

He shook his head saying "I don't wanna be a bother or anything…."

She simply raises her hand and looks at him expectantly. He glances down at it, and then back at her before handing her the letter. She opens it, adjusts her sunglasses and starts to read.

"Dear SPC Evan Malarkey…." she eyes him and comments "Oh we finally have a name now, pleasure to meet you." She continues reading, "Atlas Expeditionary Force, 1st Armored Division, Able Company…."

She narrows her eyes in the next paragraph.

"We congratulate you on completing the Warrant Officer pilots course and we welcome you as one of the first pilots in the 1st Air Cavalry Regiment. Due to the nature of your current status, he apologized for not being able to congratulate you in person, and thus we shipped your wings alongside this letter. We congratulate you on achieving your new rank and we expect a great thing from you."

She lowers her sunglasses revealing her dark brown eyes as she looks up to him and whistles, "Warrant Officer, huh?"

He smiles bashfully.

"What can you fly?" she asks curiously.

"Specifically?" he asks, "Airplanes and helicopters."

"Helicopters?" she smiles, "I've heard of those, think you can get me a ride?"

Evan sighs "I don't know…."

"Even after helping you read the letter you were so scared look over?" she presses.

Evan smirks and says "Alright, I'm sure I can work something out."

She hands him back the letter and says "I'll hold you to it, Warrant Officer."

"Thank you, miss," and he walks away.

"Oh Evan, one more thing!" she calls out.

He turns around in surprise.

"My name's Coco," she tells him, "In case you were wondering what to call me."

Evan politely smiles before tipping his hat at her and turning back around.

"I think he's taller than a fox," she comments to herself as she watches him walk off. "That's a first."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sometimes foreshadowing is obvious, while other times it is not as in the open. Also, Coco's been introduced, should you expect anything special? I'd say no, probably not, because I would have to find a reason to use her and I am pretty sure I am well away from that. The point I am trying to say is, we'll get there at some point, but we also got another three volumes worth of content to get through, so don't come here asking for it. I hope you've had a good time, at this point we come to another closing of a chapter, I hope to see you again. Remember, Big Brother is watching.**


	25. Health

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I took some advice from a fellow writer and took a break from writing for a bit. He said I may be posting too frequently and that I should give you guys some space so you aren't burnt out from reading. To be fair, he was right, I posted like four chapters in the span of four weeks, now I am back, and here is a new chapter.**

 **On a completely different note, my beta-reader, Karaya 2 has a story that I beta-read for him. It is similar to mine as in a tank battalion gets transported to Atlas and is the reason for their military build up later on down the line. He has been a crucial part for the recent chapters. His story is called** _ **The Bloody Eighth**_ **, go check it out.**

 **Beta-read by Karay 2**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Health

So, Beacon Academy doesn't operate that differently from other boarding schools: students have classes, they have homework, and they have downtime. For Grant, he found he had a lot of downtime, schoolwork turns out goes by quite fast if you don't procrastinate, and have a club to waste time at, this left him with quite a bit of free time.

Evan and Nathaneil split their time between work and their own ventures. Evan hangs out at either the hanger bay or the music room. Nathaniel, when he's not babysitting Penny, spends the majority of his time at the motor pool. Robert and Maxim find themselves running the gun ranges during the day, they sometimes even run classes on basic gun safety, marksmanship, and other things. Finally, there's Alex, who is almost always found hanging out with a group of friends, on occasion both him and Pyrrah would host sparring classes in the gym.

Grant found himself once again helping out at the school hospital. There usually weren't ever any serious situations and this often left Grant to deal with more….basic needs. Needs such as clearing people's physicals, dealing with students trying to dodge class, and the occasional sports injury. Today was one of those occasions.

"Okay, I know this hurts, but please try to keep calm…." Grant instructed Yang, "Deep breaths."

He began breathing and motioning his hand in an up and down pattern and Yang soon fell into his rhythm. Yang had found herself in the clinic that day with a dislocated hip….quite a painful situation, but one that can at least be fixed relatively easily.

"Holy shit it hurts," she gasps with tears leaking from her eyes.

"Believe me, I know now…." he warns, "I'm going to reset your hip, try to remain still."

Yang nods as she watches from her spot one the gurney. Grant moved to the side of the gunery next to her hip and placed his leg onto the gurney next to her. Her breathing quickens as he gently lifts the affected leg and flexes it over his thigh. He then firmly grasps the ankle and places his other hand under her knee, now he was in the basic starting stance of the Captain Morgan maneuver.

"On three," he says to Yang.

She slowly nods as he readies herself.

"One..."

* * *

Outside the waiting room to the clinic, Weiss sat there with her team as they patiently waited for Yang. Suddenly a blood-curdling scream emanates from the clinic making Ruby jump out of her seat. Weiss looks up from her magazine and turns her head to the door, and Blake's ear's curled as she winced in pain from the loud noise.

* * *

Back inside the clinic, Yang was slowly starting to relax..

"What happened to two and three?" he asks.

"Two and three," Grant replies while Yang shot him a death-glare.

"Alright, while your hip is indeed back in place," he continues on, "I'll still need to run some more checks just to make sure there aren't any other complications."

A few hours later, Yang was seen being wheeled out of the room in a wheelchair.

"So how long until she's back in action?" asks Ruby.

"She's going to need the cast for about a week before she can walk again," he replies.

"That long?" Ruby asked worriedly.

"She's actually lucky she has aura otherwise a full recovery could take two to three _months_ ," Grant informs her. "This is the paperwork necessary to excuse her from any physical assignments she may need to take. If the pain is too much to handle, these are some painkillers," he hands her a small bottle, "Have her take one," he states firmly. "Only one, if there's anything wrong, be sure to contact me right away, this is a list of things you should look out for."

Ruby gave it a read over before nodding and said thank you before they all walked out.

Blake quickly notices that Weiss wasn't following the group.

"Weiss you coming?" she asks.

"No, I'll catch up," she replies.

Blake nods and turns away while Weiss closes the door to the exam room.

* * *

As the others left, Weiss closes the door and faces Grant as he washes his hands.

"How did Yang dislocated her hip again?" he asks. "The report Ruby wrote only said it was a training accident."

"Max was showing us how to secure a building, you know, in case Grimm ever finds their way into an apartment," Weiss jokes. "Yang wanted to kick the door open."

"Oh, okay," Grant smiles, instantly knowing where this story was heading.

"Yeah, she planted her foot dead center thinking it would fly off its hinges like in the movies," Weiss rolls her eyes, "Instead it just went straight through like a thumbtack through paper."

"Well I hope she learned her lesson," Grant snorts, "You know she's lucky that it was only a dislocation. Had that door been reinforced, she could have easily broken her leg. Even with aura, a broken leg could have potentially put her out of commission for weeks. How is she supposed to fight in a cast, ask her opponents to stand still?"

"Well, better to learn now than later," Weiss reasons as she sits down onto the exam bed.

"How's your second time away from home working for you so far?" he asks.

"Well firstly, it is nowhere near as jarring as the bus ride to Fort Itter," she jokes, "And at least I have the ability to call my family if I need to….I didn't get that opportunity much back at Basic. Also, my teammates aren't nearly as much of a pain, still…." she breathes, "I can never shake this funny feeling, like every time I wake up I expect to be woken up by Klein."

"It's only three and a half more months until the end of the semester," Grant reassured her.

"I can only imagine how you feel," she murmurs empathetically.

Grant pauses for a moment and replies while filling out some papers "Hmm, let's see….no nine month long mobilizations, hot food, warm bed, showers…." he turns to her and chuckles, "Actual toilet paper." Weiss lets off a small chuckle in response. "As far as deployments go, its no where near my worst."

"I just hope I don't end up like my sister," she groans, "She's always complaining about not getting to spend more time at home."

"Oh, I haven't been home in years," Grants replies jokingly, but Weiss could detect a slight hint of buried grief.

"I'm sorry," Weiss says apologetically, afraid she had stirred up some old feelings.

"No," Grant objects, "No, no , no, it's fine….really. I have moved on a long time ago, it's just something I have to deal with."

He places the clipboard down and sits down in the chair. Weiss watches as he subconsciously reaches for his right ring finger.

"You must really miss her," Weiss comments.

Grant's eyes widened slightly before turning to Weiss.

"Whenever you're upset or sad," she points at his hand, "You always reach for your right hand. I always wondered why but never had the nerve to ask about it."

He opens up his hand and shows it to her revealing on his ring finger, a thing golden band confirming what she had thought.

"My job comes with a risk you know?" he tells her while moving his hand to scratch the back of his neck. "There's always a consequence."

"There's a way back right?" she blurts out, "I-I mean, you're trying to find a way back right?"

She stuttered slightly on those last words.

"No," he shook his head.

Her breath hitches as she asks"W-what do you mean?"

"There's no way back," he sadly explains. "The ones who sent us here told us that we are dead back in our universe ...so our fate here is final. It was either this or move on to the afterlife so ..." he then shrugs.

Weiss stops to process what she has been told and sympathetically looks over to Grant who now contemplatively looks out the window.

"It's a nice day today," Grant smiles, looking back at her. "You know?"

The question brokers her out of her thoughts as Gant points it out the window.

"Wouldn't be a bad day for a walk," he muses, he then tells her, "Don't worry about me, I've had a long time to come to terms with what has happened." He shows her the ring again, "This is more of a comforter for me, I may have moved on but habits aren't that easy to break," he smiles. "I think I'm gonna take a walk, you wanna come?"

Weiss nods, understanding Grant's wish to change the subject.

"Yes," she finally spoke after what seemed like an eternity.

* * *

Around the same time, Team RWBY minus the W, found themselves gathered in the music room around an exasperated Evan.

"No," he deadpans.

"Come on Evan," Yang pleaded "I'm injured."

She points at her leg brace for emphasis.

"Because of her own stupidity," Evan cringes.

While Yang pouts Ruby jumps in pleading "Please, Evan, just one song."

She even gave her best puppy eyes in an attempt to turn him over. Evan turns to Blake hoping for her to be the head of reason.

"For the record," Blake comments in her monotone voice, "You left the window open that night so we both heard you singing to Ruby."

Evan's shoulder's slump in defeat as he mutters "You too, Blake?"

She shrugs while turning back to her book.

"Hey Flyboy!" another voice joins in.

They all look to the door and see Coco standing there.

"Flyboy?" Yang asks, turning back to Evan, "You're a pilot?"

"I was there when he got his license," Coco notefully adds while walking into the room.

"Can we have a ride?" Yang asks as the three girls look over to him.

"Take a number," he replies passively.

"Looks like the rumors are true," she comments.

"Rumors?" he groans.

"Yeah, a giant, burly guy going into the music room, singing coming out," she smiles.

"Well I don't really try to hide it so," he shrugs. He turns to the others and notices their confused glances. "Oh, um guys that's Coco, a second-year student, Coco," he points to the others, "Ruby, Yang, and Blake."

"Yeah, I know you guys," Coco nods in affirmation, "You're the team that lopped off the head of the Nevermore during initiation." She points a finger gun at Ruby, "Like your style."

"Thanks," Ruby replies bashfully.

"What can I do for you?" Evan asks.

"Well, I was having issues with my weapon, and seeing as how you're a fellow automatics' user," she motions to the Confetti Maker near the piano, "I figured you could help out."

"Weapon?" Ruby murmurs.

"Oh no," Yang facepalms and readies herself with what's about to come.

Coco swings out her purse and with a push of a button, it transforms into a Gatling-gun.

Ruby starts to drool and Yang instinctively grabs her cloak laughing "Down girl!"

Evan was slightly impressed by Coco's packing abilities and he comments "Neat, what's the problem?"

"I need some better lubricant," she replies, "The dust based ones are a little too pricey and the last time I tried CLP, it started to gunk up."

"Hm," Evan cringed slightly, "Yeah, CLP might be great for your general firearms, but it's a rather poor choice for your heavier weapons," he starts rummaging through his bag muttering, "You're gonna want something with a much higher temperature tolerance…." he pulls out a fresh bottle signing in relief, "Here we go."

He hands the bottle to her.

"LSA-T," he reads off the label, "Guys in uniform like to call it Whale Cum because of how thick it is."

"*cough* Excuse me?" Blake coughs.

"Awesome!" Yang laughs while Ruby's face turns the color of her namesake.

"Lewd," snorts Coco.

"We use these on the Mk. 19s."

"Mk. 19s?" asks Ruby.

"It's a belt fed machine gun that shoots 40 mm grenades," he smiles, "And yes, it is awesome."

Ruby starts hyperventilating at the thought.

"We also use this on the M134 miniguns," he turns back to Coco, "If a car-battery powered, vehicle mounted, six-barreled, weapon that spits out rounds at 6,000 rounds a minute runs fine with this." He points at the bottle and glances style at a trembling Ruby, "A medium, hand-held sized firearm with, what is it, 6-700 rpm?"

"750," she clarifies.

"It should be fine."

"How much?" she asks.

"The bottles are actually only about 20 lien but since they haven't hit foreign markets yet, I have to import them in from Atlas so…." he does the math in his head, "22 to 23 for that bottle."

"Hm," Coco nods and pulls out her wallet and hands him the lien. She motions at the piano, "Here 25, extra two to watch you play."

Evan stares at her blankly and she just smiles confidently back.

"So you gonna play, or what?" she asks looking at the piano.

Evan sighs and looks at the piano before turning back to the group.

"Any particular requests?" he sighs, he's got a group against him and he ultimately decides that there's not really a way out of this one.

"Surprise me," she smiles confidently.

He turns to Ruby who nods expectantly and Blake who shrugs again.

Yang shakes her head and says "Nah man, we're not gonna mess with your style, just go with what you're comfortable with."

Evan let's off another sigh and mutters "Fine."

 **AU: If you're wondering, the song is "When the Night is Long," by Shelby Merry**

He walks over to the piano, sits down at the bench and opens the piano cover. He starts off with a soft and slow stroke of the keys before he joins in with a soft and haunting voice.

" _If only I could fix the sky to meet me_

 _If only I could fix my heart to meet at dawn_

 _It's got a way of knowing when to hurt me_

 _Oh it's when the night is long"_

Adam stops outside the music room and peaks in, it had been sometime since the train incident and he and Blake have barely talked to each other. She didn't take his lying well and while their relationship was still friendly, he still felt partly responsible for their new positions in life. He notices Blake who was politely listening to the performance and for a moment, contemplates walking over to her until he sees her and how happy she looked. He stares longly at her until her ears twitch and she turns her head this way. He quickly ducks back around the door and lets out a sad sigh before walking away.

" _Backwards lullabies feel like a ghostly touch_

 _Roots spread out all the way to godless times_

 _And it's got a way of knowing when to haunt me_

 _Oh it's when the night is long"_

Robert exhales calmly as he piers into the scope of his rifle. In the flash of an instant, the human sized target transforms into the silhouette of a child simply playing in the street. He moves the scope to the right and sees another man, standing across the street wearing a backpack as the man begins to walk forward towards the courthouse. As the clouds clear and the sun rays light up the area, the figures fade away pulling Robert back into the present.

" _And there's a young one sitting at the top of the world_

 _Counting down a clock that nobody sees_

 _And its got a way of knowing when to taunt me_

 _It's singing oh-oh-oh-oh-oh_

 _Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh"_

Alex lets out a boisterous laugh and slaps Jaune on the back making him lose his breath. Everyone laughs while he continues on with the story. Pyrrah and Ren politely listen while Penny and Nora are on the floor with their heads propped up by the arms, tentatively listening to his every detail. Nathaniel sitting next to Pyrrah, gets an alert on his phone, he opens it and stares at it for a moment before tapping Pyrrah on the shoulder and showing it to her. She takes a good long look before giving the phone back to Nathnial and nodding with satisfaction.

" _Earthquakes break and shatter the perfect design_

 _Ripped realities of broken minds_

 _Towers rise to meet and yet its laughing_

 _And then know it won't be long_

 _And I know it won't be long"_

"Did you have any kids?" asks Weiss as she and Grant walked down the path.

"Yep," he nods, "One girl, she would be 15 today..." he pauses for a moment as he thought abut it. "First year of high scool," he whispers.

Despite Grant's protest, Weiss couldn't help but feel distraught as she was hit with these mixed emotions, she could even feel tears threatening to fall. Grant quickly took notice of this and turned to face Weiss.

"Hey," he tells her, "She's going to be fine, she's a tough girl. There's no doubt that the past three years would have been tough on her, it would have definitely hurt, but she is strong. She gets it from her mother," he smiles pridefully.

"I wish I could have met them," Weiss sniffs, wiping a tear from her eye.

Grant quietly nods and places a comforting hand onto her shoulder, with a reassuring pat he let's go. Grant claims he's alright, but Weiss can see he was affected by the change. She decides to burry those thoughts for now and silently vows to be there for him should he need her.

At the moment, they manage to spot Max. Max is seen playing in the garden with the fox vixen cradling around his hand while the two eagles preen themselves on the branches above them. Max notices the two and waves over to them, which they wave back.

" _And there's a young one sitting at the top of the world_

 _Counting down a clock that nobody sees_

 _And its got a way of knowing when to taunt me_

 _And its got a way of knowing when to taunt me_

 _And they're singing_

 _(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)_

 _(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)_

 _(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)_

 _(Oh-aoh-oh-aoh-oh)"_

The music started to pick up into a crescendo as Evan neared the conclusion of the song.

 _Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh_

 _Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh_

 _Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh_

As the song neared the end, the piano started to fade and his voice grew softer as he finished the last chord. At the end, he silently closes the lid on the piano and turns to the group who by now has noticeably groaned much to his dismay. They immediately let out an applause with Ruby, Yang, Blake, and Coco in the forefront. He spots Yang who had her scroll in her hand and had been recording him. He lets out a groan as he stands up before taking a bow in front of the audience.

"So much for having this place to myself," he grumbles under his breath.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey guys, with that, we come to the end of another chapter. The songs aren't gonna be a common thread, but they will pop up from now and then. I wanted to explore more of the character's depth starting with Grant. You know, I feel that these stories don't always touch on the repercussions of being ripped from their home world. The main character's may have had three years prior to learn how to accept their new fates, but it is still something that is too big to not be addressed.**

 **On a completely different note, there may be some that are against future threads and creative decisions in my story. I am of the mind that any opportunity I can get to expand on a character, may it be religion or romance, whatever, I will take it. There are not many, but I know there are gonna be people who disagree with what I choose to do with my characters so I am gonna say this now, and only once.**

 **This story is mine. I may write this for you guys in mind, but this story is ultimately mine. I will take whatever you guys have to say into consideration. Hell, I might even add them in as I have done in the past, but I ultimately get to say what goes into my story. If not, then hey, there are a ton of other guys who are writing about the same topic.**

 **Now to you other people, hey I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I am debating on making the Current State of the World chapter either the next one, or that whole Jaune debacle, it's probably the Current State of the World as at this point, this is gonna take a dive into the AU side of my story and we gotta a lot of ground to cover if we are gonna get to where I wanna be by the Fall of Beacon. I'll see you guys soon, hopefully soon as my midterms are next week and you know how those can be. Remember, Big Brother is Watching.**


	26. Blood Orchid

**Author's Note: So, my school got suspended for about two weeks due to the COVID-19 scare giving me some extra time to get started on a new chapter. Too bad I got stuck on a large writer's block throughout it. It took me a while, but I finally decided on now to work on my "State of the World" chapters. Anyway, stay safe guys, otherwise enjoy this chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Blood Orchid

 **Somewhere along the Mistral Border:**

"Did you hear what happened to the Atlas Branch last week?" one of the members asked as they huddled around the fire.

It was a cold night, and the White Fang group really didn't want to be out here in the deep wilderness. The older members in particular spoke out against the night patrols, claiming that the woods were haunted by demons. That particular member of thier group went out to emphasize that they weren't Grimm. Now Jade wasn't one to be superstitious, but with all the weird things that have been going on lately, her skepticism had begun to wane.

"Yeah, one of the outposts in the tundra got attacked, right?" another asks.

"It wasn't just an outpost," one of the older members sighed.

Everyone turned to him as he continued.

"It was a Forward Operating Base," he anoucnes sadly, "And it was completely destroyed."

"What?!" another member cries in disbelief. "How? That's over a thousand people!"

"Official tally is 1500," the older man replies solemnly. "The entire base was wiped off the map."

"By the brothers," another gasps, she then asks "Did anyone make it out?"

"I was there with a few others that day," he answers somberly, "We were out on patrol and were on our way back when it happened."

"Did you see what it was?" Jade asks.

Every turn to the old man.

"One of the guys claimed that he had seen what looked like a few thin rods rain down from the sky right before the mountain was completely obliterated by explosions. I thought that the mountain was erupting for a moment."

"Wait…thin rods?" one of the members murmurs to himself. "Like a missile?"

He shook his head, "No exhaust."

"Bomb them," another offers, "Like dropped from the air."

"It wasn't dropped by any aircraft I've ever seen," he replies, "We would have heard it well before it was in range."

"Well, maybe it's some kind of new aircraft that the Atlas military are working on," another comments, "Like some kind of invisible, quiet airship."

"That sounds really stupid," the girl next to him deadpans.

The old man stops them before they could escalate their argument, "Whatever it was, it had to have been a powerful one, because those bombs wiped the base out in only a fraction of a second, and when we got there, all that was left were just a bunch deep craters."

"There was nothing left?" Jade asks in disbelief.

"They even collapsed the underground tunnels. I requested a transfer as soon as we regrouped with another outpost." He scoffs, "But I wouldn't have taken it had I known I would be sent to Mistral."

"Why, what's wrong with Mistral?" one asks.

The old man shrugs, "Rumor's have it, that there are demons that haunt these woods. Grimm, humans, faunus…everything has been targeted by them. They are claimed to have glowing red, demonic like eyes and everything that has ever been encountered by them has been completely wiped out with extreme prejudice."

"What like ghosts?" a member snorts.

"No, they're not ghosts," the old man counters, "Ghosts don't leave bullet holes."

Before anyone could counter, the alarm bell for the camp further upwind from them went off. Everyone instantly jumped to their feet and grabbed their weapons, they all watched in horror as the fire from the camp went out as they fired randomly into the areas around them. Their screams shook Jade to her core as they echoed throughout the dense forest.

"Shit…" a member curses, "Shit, shit, shit!"

"Oh this is great," a member said hysterically, "This is fucking great! Now what are we supposed to do?!"

Another member grabs his collar and asks "Are you finished?"

"It's game over man, game over!" he cries back. "What are we supposed to do now?!"

"Shut the fuck up, all of you!" the old man barks. He turns to the front and says, "White, Fletcher, you two see anything?!"

Fletcher shook her head, "There's nothing back here!"

They all stopped and the old man's face pales when he hears a distinct thump followed by a whistling noise.

"Incoming!" the old man screamed.

He barely managed to scream in time before Jade's whole world was engulfed in white, when she finally came to, she found herself on the floor with her ears still ringing. She laid there dazed as a massive firefight raged on before her. She stared as White ran up to her screaming inaudible words, in the distance, she could hear the faint thumping of the rifle fire and she watched as tracers flew around them. Fletcher was running in her direction before a grenade goes off, launchering her mangled corpse into the air.

"Jade, hold on!" White screams as he begins to drag her out of the hole she was in.

White fires off a pistol in one hand while he slowly pulls her into cover. He let's go for a moment and turns to face the enemy right as a round cuts through his head, showing Jade in bits of skull, blood, and gray matter. Jade looks over and sees the old man barking orders while he fires an assault rifle at something before him. A snarling and howling noise can be heard off in the distance, the old man shifts his rifle in the direction. The old man is then tackled to the ground by what looked to her like a soldier encased in head to toe in futuristic, metal plate armor. She watches in horror as the soldier extends a blade on his fist and drives it into the old man's throat. The soldier pauses before looking straight at her, the glowing light coming from his visor bore straight into her soul. Acting quickly, she reaches down and pulls out her pistol hoping to at least take one of them with her.

"Gah!" she cries as she felt something hot and sharp cut into her shoulder.

The next thing she knew, she was on the ground with a boot on her neck and her arms being restrained behind her. With her face shoved into the dirt, all she could see were her attackers boots.

"Sir!" one of her captors bellowed out in a deep, accented, machine like voice. "We have a survivor."

"Take her back to base," their leader instructed, "This one may be of use to us."

They lifted their boot off of her and she looked at them long enough to see one of them lift their rifle up and smashes the stock down onto her face.

* * *

 **1000 Hours, Saturday, March 28th, 2028, Mistrial Hall**

Gathered before the main podium was a massive crowd of thousands, cheering loudly from their seats. Their cheers grew louder as the military marched through the pathways parading around with their prominent banners. The presence was overwhelming to anyone who was there in person that day. It was late spring and by now, the orchid trees surrounding the paths of the park have blossomed into beautiful pink flowers, lining the place with shades of pink and red.

The rally attendees patiently waited as their political party's leader, Scolar Visari made his way to the podium. He was a large, bald, intimidating fellow whose eyes were filled with ambition and determination. For months, their party leader had worked tirelessly and now, for the first time, is addressing the kingdom, as well as the world as their leader. Mistral may still have a monarchy for the sake of tradition and formalities, nut the true power of the nation sat in thier Heiarchy which was headed by a Primarch, in other words, him. The crowd dies down as Visari silently gauges the audience before him, he makes a few adjustments to the microphone and takes a deep breath. He raises both of his hands and slams them down onto the podium quickly grasping the attention of everyone watching.

"Blood alone moves the wheels of history!"

All the attendees were on the edge of their seats.

"Have you ever asked yourselves in an hour of mediation," he pauses as he glances around at the crowd, "Which one often finds during the day, how long we have been striving for greatness?"

He straightens his stance and narrows his eyes.

"Not only the years we've been at war," he leans into the microphone for emphasis, "The War of Work, but from the moment as a child, when we realized that the world could be conquered."

He starts to raise his voice again.

"It has been a lifetime struggle…" he strikes the podium again, "A never-ending fight, I say to you…" he strikes the podium once more and becomes more animated in his body language, "And you will understand that it is a privilege to fight!"

He pauses as the crowd starts to clap.

He confidently smiles and raises his hand into the air and triumphantly shouts "We are warriors!"

The crowd starts to clap louder as they grow more riled up by the speech.

"Citizens of Mistral, I ask you-" he leans forward and firmly grasps the podium, "Once more rise and be worthy of this historical hour!"

The crowd stood up from their seats and began to cheer.

"No revolution is worth anything unless it can defend itself!" he bellows. "Some people will tell you "Mistrali" is a bad word. They'll conjure up images of white-feathered cowards and submissive rats. This is our duty to change their perception. I say…"

He looks out among the crowds once more.

"Mistral men and women unite!" he pauses to catch his breath, "We must never acquiesce, for it is together-" he takes a sharp inhale before he bellows "Together that we prevail!"

He begins to amorously point among the crowd.

"We must never cede control of the fatherland, for it is…."

He points at the crowd and they all shout "TOGETHER THAT WE PREVAIL!"

At that moment, a small breeze picked up and blew the blossoms off of the orchid trees and they gently rained down upon the crowd. The streets then erupt in thunderous applause and the rest of the world stood silently as the Mistrali people in one voice, made a declaration, and as time will come, a challenge.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This is Part: 1 in discussing the current state of the world and it's politics. The other nations will be touched on also, but probably won't be as big of a scale as how I am setting up Mistral. I'll go into more detail probably in the next chapter, but Mistral is going to play a major part later on. In this world, I have made them quite a bit nationalistic, and that will be important later on, but firstly no, they are not Nazis. If anything they are more racist in nature rather than national socialist.**

 **One last note, this is to address something in the first half of the chapter. No, it is not some orbital cannon or whatever generic sci-fi weapon that you can come up with. I am willing to bend the rules on what military tech is being used, but orbital weaponry is off the table. It would be pointless and an incredible waste of resources to get such an object into orbit and then further maintain it when it wo9uld be much easier to use a plane and just drop a bomb.**

 **Which was exactly what that thing was. It was just a simple, laser guided JDAM, dropped about 18 miles out. Specifically, it was a handful of GBU-31 2000 lb Hard Target Penetrators dropped by an F15. Anyway, until next time, see you. Remember, Big brother is Watching.**


	27. Force Application

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I thought I'd start doing review responses, seems easier than the PMs I send since, well, seeing as no one ever responds to them anyway….oh well. Enjoy the chapter.**

 **Combine117: No, not in this story, that would take decades to create such things, and plus Remnant can barely even get into orbit as is. On a further note, of the nations on Earth that went to space, who the fuck gave up after a failure. Atlas seemed to have given up completely after they found out dust didn't work in space and didn't bother to try something else. The plus side means that they probably still have the means to reproduce those rockets and a little bit of adjustments and they could probably just swap the fuel source out….so there's that.**

 **WINTER TERROR: All in good time, also thanks, gives me more ideas on how to shape that later on.**

 **Olav152: You know, you're not the first person to have drawn a comparison to those stories,** _ **Here We Go Again**_ **in particular. I appreciate it.**

 **DragonflyGaming: The tactical advantage of having stuff in orbit is something that needs to be addressed. Due to Atlas's choices, they chose to rely on the CCT which, when shut off, crippled their entire military, as well as the rest of the world. Had they had an active constellation, they could have at least maintained Comms and GPS seeing as their satellites would be nigh untouchable without orbit capable rockets. I would also imagine that their missile technology is lacking as well, ICBMs (Inter-continental Ballistic Missile) alone need to get into orbit in order to function, cruise missiles rely on either inertial navigation or GPS for guidance. Both are things I don't think Remnant has progressed very far on, I don't know, maybe I am wrong, but evidence shows otherwise.**

 **Scoutusa1: Thanks, always happy to see you.**

* * *

 **Beta-read by Karaya 2.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY.**

* * *

Force Application

" _Speak softly, and carry a big stick,"_ _Theodore Roosevelt._

"Hyah!" Yang growled as she brought up her fists in a cross, catching Robert's sabre in between her gauntlets.

Yang shoves him back and throws a right jab, Robert throws up his left arm and blocks the blow while lunging forward with his sword. Yang parries the blade and lands a quick blow into Robert's face knocking him loose, Robert retreats a few steps and ripostes. It was clear that the two had been at it for a little bit as Robert let out small, controlled pants while Yang bounced off of the balls of her feet.

"Come one soldier boy," Yang taunts, "Don't tell me that's all ya got."

Yang brings her guard back up as she beckons him one with her eyes. Robert slowly circles his opponent, probing her for openings as he glares at her through his tinted glasses.

"Fine," Yang huffs as she cracks her neck, "If you won't go…."

Yang fires off her gauntlets behind her, propelling herself forward, lunging at him with a right, overhead haymaker. Robert immediately drops down and springs off of his feet, charging into Yang. While still in motion, he blocks the oncoming blow with his left arm, quickly slashes Yang across her belly. Yang's forward momentum continues to carry her forward as Robert sidesteps and thrusts into her back as she passes him. She looks back and shoots him a glare before firing a blast at his feet and knocking his sword aside. Robert jumps back but catches a punch in the gut making him grunt and stumble slightly opening him up to a few more strikes from Yang.

On the third strike, Robert manages to parry before quickly bringing the blade back around for a slash aimed at Yang's neck. Yang moves her head to the side as the sword misses, she quickly grabs his sword arm stopping him from recovering. She raises her fist and throws a powerful strike which, to Yang's surprise, Robert catches without even flinching. In a surprising bout of strength, Robert not only manages to hold Yang, but he actually starts to slowly push her back. Acting quickly, Yang headbutts Robert several times until she felt his grip on her fist loosen. She violently shook the hand off of her and fired a powerful jab into his gut and finished it with an uppercut knocking Robert a few feet into the air before he came crashing down.

She watches in surprise as Robert slowly gets back up, she could barely make out his quiet pained grunts were now more pronounced. She glances at the board and sees that he didn't have a lot of aura left, but by the looks of Professor Goodwitch, he had just enough for her not to call the match, and so did she. She hears the clipping of a buckle coming from Robert's direction and turns to see him just as he pulls out his machine-pistol and immediately lets loose at full automatic. Yang darts to the side and rolls forward management to dodge a few of the rounds before she feels what seemed like several hard punches slam into her side before she heard the distinctive *click* of an empty gun. She grunts in frustration as she realizes that he had managed to land a good burst on her. She immediately leaps to her feet, loads a shell into each of her gauntlets and raises them at Robert.

"So it's gonna be like that, huh?" she grunts.

Robert glances to his right and sees his sword laying thereafter it had been knocked loose by that mighty uppercut. For the first time since before the match, she finally heard Robert speak.

In a raspy, tired voice, he smiles and says "I can do this all day."

She fires and he rolls to the side and tosses something at her. She pauses as she feels it strike her feet, she widened in shock when she looks down and sees a grenade without its spoon. She lets out a choked scream as the grenade blows and covers her in thick, white smoke. She wearily looks around her searching for any sign of her opponent. As she searched for him, she failed to hear the light footsteps rush up from behind her. Out from the shadows came the silhouette of Robert who lands a good strike with his sword, down her back. Yang stumbles forward cursing, she snaps her fist up as she continues searching for her target.

She pauses for a moment and slows her breathing as she listens to his steps. She inhales sharply as she once again, hears his steps coming from her left and brings her gauntlet up and deflects the strike before ducking down, narrowly avoiding a horizontal slice and diving forward. She immediately about-faces and fires off a couple shells in his direction. She smirks as he manages to dodge them before turning back to face her. She was about to make another taunt before she stopped to notice something floating in the air, something gold colored,….something very familiar. At this point, Robert had stopped and his mouth dropped as they both came to realize what it was.

"My hair…." she breathes. She looks to Robert as her lilac eyes get red, her breathing quickened as anger begins bubbling up. "MY HAIR!" she roars.

"Shit," Robert hisses.

He pales as Yang, instead of charging, loads a couple of unknown shells into her gauntlets before doing a wicked smile. Robert didn't want to admit it, but he was scared now. Robert transforms his Sabre, Hussar, into its MPX form and snaps it up, training it onto the angry blonde and fires.

Yang decides to take a page out of Rboert's book and fires her gauntlets which she had loaded each with water and fire dust into the ground creating a smoke screen which she retreated into. Robert advanced after firing at her retreating form before stopping right at the edge of the smoke. He pauses as he takes a good hard look into the cloud, he quickly realizes that she is no longer there and immediately spins the smg around only for Yang to have snuck right up to him and caught the SMG with her arms. The two were once again locked into a struggle as he fires off smg into the air before she wrenches the gun from his grasp and clubs him in the side of the head, knocking his glasses loose along with bringing him to the ground.

She once again, watches as he slowly gets up to face her. She stops and her breath hits as she gazes upon her opponent's shelf eyes. For the first time, she was seeing Robert without his glasses, through the smoke, she could make out a pair of glowing yellow balls with thin black slits in the center.

"Snake eyes," she murmurs in surprise.

He sneers at her as he loads another magazine into his pistol and pulls out a Kabar knife from the sheathe on his vest. He brings them both up and takes a few deep breaths as he waits for her. Yang nods and accepts the final duel as she brings her fists up as well, a solid second passes before they both charge at each other.

* * *

"And then Goodwitch ended it!" Yang announces.

She glances around at the blank faces of the table in front of her, they all turn to Robert who was casually eating next to Yang. He pauses for a moment to give Yang's tale some thought.

"Yeah, that sounds about right," he comments between bites.

"So who won?" Weiss questions.

"If it were an actual match, she did by a good handful of points," Robert answers, "But since we aren't and instead we are in just a sparring match, Good Witch left it at a draw due to our aura's being low enough that it could have gone either way."

"What did she say?" asks a perplexed Nathanial.

"Well….to cut out a bunch of bull shit-" Yang began.

"She needs to learn anger management and I gotta learn how to take a punch," Robert finishes.

Yang jerks her thumb at him and nods in agreement.

"Speaking of punches," she turns back to Robert and asks, "What in the world did you do to those bullets? Those were some of the hardest hits I've ever felt."

"They were some specialty rounds I got called +P Hollow Points," Robert shrugs.

Yang stares blankly, "You're gonna have to explain that one to me. I'm not Ruby, remember?"

"Well, you know what hollow points are right?" he asks.

Yang nodded, "Yeah, they like, expand on impact."

Robert continues "+P just stands for overpressure. Internal pressure of the cartridge is higher than normal giving the round a higher muzzle velocity. Higher velocity means a deeper penetration and much more energy delivered upon impact."

Weiss blanches as Yang quirks an eyebrow.

"That's allowed?" Yang asks.

"We're not allowed to use FMJ rounds," Robert shrugs, "International arena rules make rounds like it illegal since they have the tendency to over penetrate their victims. The League would prefer it if we didn't put the audience at risk of collateral damage."

"Wait, so long as it doesn't over penetrate, it's allowed?" Yang inquires.

"Yep," Pyrrah chimes in, "And it's a rather vague rule that people are able to exploit. I once had a guy use High Explosive rounds in a fight with me."

"Don't worry, we'll just wait until someone dies, then in the roles of civil suits," Alex darkly jokes.

"Ain't that the truth," Robert sighs to himself as he removes his glasses and cleans the lenses.

"Hey Robert?" Yang asks.

"Hm?" he responds, looking over to her.

"What kind of faunus are you?"

"I am actually curious about that as well," Adam joins in.

"Like," Yang adds, "You're a snake aren't you?"

"Yes, Anaconda specifically," he replies happily.

"Oh, so those aren't tattoos,"Pyrrah asks curiously.

"Are you cold-blooded?" Ruby chatters excitedly..

"Why do you wear your glasses?" asks Adam.

"In that order?" Robert asks bemused before replying, "No, no, and because my eyes can be rather distracting."

"Distracting?" Yang quirks an eyebrow.

"Same reason why Blake wears a bow," he jerks his thumb at her, "I need people to focus on what I'm saying rather than how I look…."

Adam disagreed with that statement, but he understood the idea.

"Plus I get to do this…." Robert lowers his lenses and glasses in the group.

The group all had different reactions, but it all boiled to the general consensus that his glare can be quite intimidating.

"That explains the strength," Blake muses from behind her book. "How else is he able to hold back one of your punches in his skinny frame."

"It also explains how he can shove so much food down his gullet," Alex jokes.

"You should see him when he sheds," Nathanial taunts.

Robert just smiles and throws him the bird before turning back to his meal.

"Aww, Robby, don't be that way," Yang laughs.

"Please don't call me that," Robert sighs, "And I already know you are trying to come up with a bunch of crappy snake puns, so I am asking please don't."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Yang smiles innocently, "Besides, I just might _slither_ through your expectations."

This led everyone to collectively groan.

Robert deadpans and comments "Even for you, that was weak."

Before Yang could retort, they were joined by more people.

"Salutations, everyone!" Penny chortles as she, along with Nora and Ren pull up to the table.

She places her tray onto the table, and seats herself next Nathanial.

"How's it going?" Nathaniel greets.

"Friend Nora here was just telling me about this dream she had," Nora chips.

As if on cue, Nora plops down next to her and Ren pinches the bridge of his nose.

"So!" she began dramatically, "There we were, in the middle of the night…"

"It was day," Ren translated.

At this point, Blake was buried into her book, and Yang and Penny hung on her every word. Grant and Nathanial were filling out some paperwork and Evan was on a phone call. Alex and Weiss listened, entertained by Nora's absurdity….well, Alex was entertained, Weiss was more confused. The rest continued conversing among themselves.

"We were **surrounded** by Ursai…" Nora dramatically leans forward while Penny and Yang lean in as well.

"They were Beowolves," Ren comments while sipping a cup of coffee.

"Dozens of them!"

Robert forks in some mashed potatoes while absently listening to the story.

"Two of 'em."

Robert pauses mid chew and glances over at them. He was surprised by the night and day difference between the two versions. Meanwhile, a concerned Pyrrah and Ruby look over to a distant Jaune.

"But they were no match... And in the end, Ren and I took them down and made a boatload of Lien selling Ursa skin rugs!"

"If only it worked that way," Nathnail snorts as he props his head up with his arm. He glances over at Ren and comments "Your girl's got quite the imagination."

Brushing off the double meaning of Nathnial's words, he sighs and replies "She's been having this recurring dream for nearly a month now."

"Jaune? Are you okay?" Pyrrah finally asks.

Quickly snapping out of his daze, he reflexive response "Huh? Oh, yeah! Why?"

"If that is what fine looks like, then I would hate to see what "not fine" looks like, Arc," Grant comments without looking up from his forms.

"He's right Jaune," Ruby joins in, "You're definitely not fine."

Pyrrah nods in affirmation as everyone stopped their actions and turned to the now aware team leader.

Jaune tried to brush it off and put on a happy face, saying ""Guys, I'm fine. Seriously! Look!"

He holds up a thumbs up and gives off a nervous laugh. He stops as his attention is drawn to Team CRDL who were sat on a table across from them. Robert quickly notices this and his eyes narrow as he focuses onto the team as they pick on a girl with brown hair and bunny ears.

Pyrrah, quickly cutting to the chase, flat out says "Jaune, we know Cardin's been picking on you since the first week of school!"

"Who? Cardin Winchester? Nah... He just likes to mess around! You know, practical jokes!" Jaune laughs, but the hurt in his eyes said otherwise.

"He is a _bully_ ," Ruby corrected.

"Oh, please! Name _one_ time he's 'bullied' me?" Jaune scoffs.

"Those times in the hallway when he's knocked your books to the floor," Ruby listed off.

"Those were just an accident," Jaune replies confidently. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"That time you were walking through a narrow corridor and he activated your shield and got you stuck," Pyrrah ads.

"Um….also an accident," Jaune counters, a little less confidently. "You know how finicky my shield is."

"Well look at all this fresh meat," a voice jokes drawing everyone's attention. "Hi Evan," the girl greeted.

"Hi Coco," he smiles politely.

Everyone watches as a rather fashionably dressed brunette in a beret and sunglasses walks up to their resident viking.

"Evan, who is that?" Ruby eyes suspiciously.

"Oh, everyone," he announces to the table, "This is Coco, she's a second year I met, Coco, these are my friends."

"Nice meeting you all," Coco smiles politely, "Evan has told me a lot about you, I'm sure you have some interesting stories of him as well."

"Boy do we," Nathaniel chuckles, prompting Evan to lightly punch him in the shoulder.

Coco, notices Jaune and Pyrrah and asks "So what's all this?"

"Jaune's being bullied by Winchester-"

"I am NOT!" he angrily snaps.

"He's also in denial," Evan quickly adds, "His partner is compiling some rather damning evidence against him."

"Winchester…." Coco ponders for a bit, "Tall guy with a mace?"

Pyrrah nods.

"Did you tell him about the locker?" she asks.

Jaune quickly counters "I didn't even land that far!"

"Oh, he really is in denial," Coco sighs before sternly replying "Jaune, I lead the team that was sent to retrieve you."

"Jaune, you know if you ever need help, you can just ask," Pyrrah tells him comfortingly.

"Oooh!" Nora stands up and presents her diabolical plan, "We'll break his legs!" she nodded enthusiastically.

"Jaune, right now, you are in what we call the victim mentality," Grant finally looks up from his paperwork, "I am telling you, I have seen this all the time with patients suffering from abuse, they will often try and deny the obvious and even go as far as defend the actions of their abusers."

Jaune swallowed a lump in his throat as he grew silent.

"Your team is throwing you an olive branch, the sooner you accept their help, the better," Grant tells him honestly. "Oh, you can learn the hard way, let the issue fester before you implode and have a nervous breakdown."

"He's right," Coco agreed, "This school has a strict anti-bullying policy, all we need is for you to come forward."

"Guys I swear, I'm fine,' Jaune says, quieter this time, his gaze moves back to Cardin, "Besides, it's not like he's only a jerk to _me_ , he's a jerk to everyone."

Coco looks over and her eyes widen.

"Ow! That hurts!"

"Velvet," she gasps.

"I guess they really do let in the lowest bitter these days," Adam sneers.

Blake and Pyrrah send glares at the unsuspecting table.

"We should do something, Grant," Weiss protested.

"He silently nods to Robert.

At her boiling point, Coco started to march over before she felt tug on her arm. It was Robert, without a word, he shook his head and walked past her.

* * *

As Team CRDL laughed at their victim, they failed to notice Roboert silently making his way to them.

"I would strongly advise against your current activities," Robert warns in an eerily soft, monotone voice.

They all stop and look at him.

Russell snickers to his team "Hey look, it's one those wannabe soldiers."

Cardin arrogantly smiles back.

"Oh yeah, and why's that?" he challenges.

"It is unbecoming of your character," Robert replies, "Or it would be if you had any good character to begin with."

Cardin snorts and jeers to his team "This guy."

Robert turns to a nervous Velvet and says "Miss, I'd like to invite you over to our table." He glares at Team CRDL, "I assure you that the company is much more pleasant."

Velvet slowly nods and stands up.

Before she leaves, Robert leans over and whispers to her "You see that table straight ahead, the ones with the two gingers?"

She nods, she also saw her team leader Coco among the group..

"Walk straight there, do not look back," he whispers.

"What a freak," he heard Russel jeer in the background.

"Way to be a party pooper, Baby Killer," Cardin cackles, he grins and corrects himself, "No wait, you aren't a Baby Killer….you're just a wannabe "Future Soldier"!"

Robert turns to them and leers at them through his tinted glasses.

"I would strongly advise against your current actions against other students, Winchester," he replied calmly.

"Oh I see, so you're an animal lover huh?" Cardin taunts, "It was nothing," he replied innocently, "We were just having some fun."

"Oh is that what that was?" Robert asks sarcastically. "Looks more like bullying to me."

Cardin shrugs and counters with "So what if it is?" He stands up and walks right up to Robert, attempting to use his height as intimidation as he stared Robert down. "If these cowards really had it in them, they would have stood up for themselves and not have to turn to sissies like you to fight their battles for them."

Cardin firmly pokes Robert in the chest before saying "If you're so upset, why don't you do something about it?"

Then out of nowhere, Cardin threw a sucker-punch at Robert's head. In an instant, Robert's arm shot up like an attacking rattle-snake and caught the first just centimeters from his face. Cardin's face quickly changed from confident to confused as Robert held back against him.

"No, no, no," Robert grunts.

He then became shocked as Robert grits his teeth and slowly twisted the fist away from him before throwing it down. He then firmly plants his palm onto Cardin's breastplate and forcefully shoves him back onto the table.

"Don't be fucking stupid," he snarls.

As Cardin stood back up, his team jumped up alongside him. At the same time, everyone from Robert's table stood up to face them as well turning the confrontation into a stand-off. Robert simply gives them the "Hold Position" hand signal before turning back to Cardin and walking right up to him.

"Go ahead, throw that punch," he beckons with a smile. "I won't lift a finger."

Cardin narrows his eyes as he knew Robert was hiding something.

"What are you getting at?" he mumbles.

"It is simple…." Robert smirks, "There are two possible outcomes to this. One: you throw that punch and I can have you and your team thrown out of this school with just one phone call-"

"Bullshit," Cardin cuts in.

"Come one Cardin, get him!" Sky cries. "Kick his ass!"

"Yeah!" Dove agreed, "No one's going to do anything, you've seen it yourself."

"I'll add a final note," Robert rolls his eyes before replying "Look at it this way: if you hit me, and I hit you, that is called a fight. If you hit me, and I don't hit back, that is called assault, and I think you know what that means." Robert pauses to let that fact sink in, "And we have an entire room full of witnesses, I think at least one person is willing to testify, don't you?"

A few seconds go by with the two groups eyeing up each other before Cardin tells his team to back off resulting in Robert's table to sit back down.

"What if you're bluffing?" Cardin asks.

Robert, with a straight face, responds simply "Then nothing happens, I walk away….maybe somewhere down the line, someone else will stand up and do something different. The question is….." Robert's smile grows wider "Are you willing to take that risk?"

Cadin pauses and ponders for a bit. He turns to his team and motions for them to back down, to which they reluctantly agree. On the other side, Grant turns to everyone and motions them to relax. Robert lets out a huff as glances around at the students as they now appear to have all eyes on the two.

"I don't think you realize how lucky you and your team have been," Robert scoffs.

He looks around at the faces of the fellow students as the stand-off carries on.

"As your teammate so graciously pointed out, this school appears to suffer from a rather large case of "the bystander effect,"" he turns back to Cardin, "Meaning, they can't be bothered to intervene thinking that it's simply not their problem," he shrugs, "It's no wonder you've lasted as long as you have, doing what you do." He then growls "Because people around just can't seem to compel themselves to just do the right thing."

Robert steps up to Cardin, to the point where their faces are almost touching.

"I am going to make this very clear," Robert takes off his glasses and Team CRDL's eyes widen as a pair of reptilian eyes stare back. "We don't need people like you at this academy, so if I ever catch you bullying another student, I guarantee that you….." he motions to all of them, "And your team will _never_ see the light of day inside this academy again. When the time comes, I'll be there to personally escort you off the campus."

Cardin swallows a lump as he saw that Robert was dead serious.

"Maybe you can try your luck in another academy….." he muses, "But I know for a fact that these academies talk to one another. Atlas won't take you, they reject people better than you all the time. Haven is a maybe and Shade…." he chuckles quietly, "Well they'll take you, they take anyone, but I know you won't last behind those gates."

Without another word, Roibert did an about-face and walked off the scene leaving behind a nervous Team CRDL and the dead silent auditorium slowly went back to their own business.

* * *

At the same time, back at the table….

"Man, he really did a number on you," Coco sighs as she looked over Velvet's ears, "When I get my hands on him!"

Velvet let out a few whimpers as her partner checked her over, Cardin's handiness had left her ears bruised and Coco was trying to help her manage the pain as Grant searched through his bag.

"Got it," Grant announces as he pulls out a bottle of Tiger Balm from within the bag. He scoots over to Velvet and asks "Alright here, let me see."

Coco looks at Velvet who gives her the okay before she nods as well. She holds out the ear as Grant unscrews the cap.

"Okay, miss?" he calls out, "This is going to hurt a little, but I am going to need you to try and stay still alright?"

"Okay," she whimpers. "I-I'll try."

"Just let me know if I'm too rough," he responds. He looks over to Coco and says "Ready?"

Coco shoots him the thumbs up and he scoops some of the goo out of the bottle and begins to slowly massage it into her ears. Velvet wasn't use to this feeling and began to squirm and wince as the hands went over her bruises.

"Shh, easy, easy," Coco breaths as she caresses the side of her head , "I know it hurts."

After a few moments, Grant moved onto the other ear and repeated the process.

"Alright, all done," Grant places a comforting hand onto her shoulder and says "The pain should go away in 10 to 20 minutes." He turns to Coco, "This should last for the rest of the day, if it starts to hurt again, just apply another coat." He hands her the bottle, "Here take this, I got plenty back at the office."

"Thank you," Coco murmurs quietly and then the two left.

Grant nods as he places the med kit back into his bag. The group watched silently as Robert and Cardin spoke and then to their surprise, they simply walked away from each other.

"Well I'll be," Blake murmurs.

"He actually managed to talk them down," Yang whistles.

"Darn it, I was really hoping to break their legs," Nora grumbled, disappointed by the lack of escalation.

"Your partner has quite the way with words," Adam comments as he observes the confrontation, coupled with Robert's interaction with Ruby on the first day of class.

"That he does," Maxim says quietly.

Weiss glances at her watch before announcing "Oh, lunch is over, we better get going."

With that, everyone backs up their trays and leaves for their next classes.

* * *

 **Author's Note: On an important note, at some point, check back with the character profiles in the previous chapters. I just remembered that they would probably be wearing something different rather than their full battle rattle during sparring, especially when there aren't live rounds being used. If I havn't already changed them, then I will at some point.**

 **When sparring they are allowed to use lethal rounds but they are only hollow-point, fragmentation rounds that police use, or those mushroom rounds that hunters use. Sure they cause a lot more damage to an unarmored target when compared to an FMJ round, but it's a lot less likely to over penetrate the target. Plus, even if they are lethal, ideally the referee would have stopped the match before their aura got that low, but accidents do happen. I always thought there should be more injuries in the show anyway considering what they are doing, but I dunno.**

 **I was considering not even having this section in the story at all, but I needed set up for the next couple of chapters as well as a chance to set up Robert's character even more. Most people either go through with putting the Cardin scene in and having their character beat him up, they just redo the scene, or they on occasion leave it out all together and I didn't want to do that. So far, he just seems like a Drill Sergeant, but like all my other characters, I am working to try and humanize him more.**

 **I hope you liked this chapter and I hope to see you guys soon. Please leave reviews, they let me know how I am progressing. Remember, Big Brother is watching…..always.**


	28. What About Jaune?

**Author's Note: Hey guys, I hope you are all healthy, here's the next chapter.**

 **Lord Demolitions: Probably not, and if I do feature any of those guns, they won't be a major part as my main focus are my characters.**

 **WINTER TERROR: Thank you a man, even though I prefer to keep my fights short, I do make sure to fill them with a lot of detail. I don't like my fights being dragged out, and I know my characters wouldn't like it either as they train how they would fight in combat, which in combat means trying to kill or incapacitate the enemy before they do the same to you. Also, I am trying to work my way into including their tank more as that was more or less one of the main characters. I just haven't found a really good spot yet to show her off in a while, and I am trying to find any chance I get to show off the tech and equipment the guys are working on. For now, while they're still at Beacon, it'll be a bit before we get a chance as I still am, I am holding off on major military engagements until the later seasons when actual conflict starts off.**

 **Combine117: Dude, you're not giving Atlas enough credit, the US launched their first functioning communications satellite only five years after Sputnik was launched and four after the first US satellite was launched. It won't be impossible, it would just be really expensive like how it is when sending anything into space, and I'm not talking about a space station, or spy satellites. For accurate GPS coverage, you need four satellites in medium Earth orbit, and for global communications, you need three in geostationary Earth orbit. For our GPS constellation, the US alone successfully launched ten in seven years between 1978-1985 with only one failure. It would take some time and money, but I would say the Atlas military, with dedicated funding, could easily be experimenting with that stuff in only a few years. You also have to remember that they aren't working from complete scratch like the US and the USSR, Nazi scientists or not.**

 **Beta-read by Karaya 2**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own RWBY**

* * *

What About Jaune?

The door to the hanger suddenly opens up and in walks Nathanial with Pyrrah trailing behind her.

"And I am telling them that it is really a pointless idea," he tells hers.

Pyrrah nods as Nathaniel rambles.

"It wasn't just me either," Nathanial laughs.

"Kowalski?" a mechanic calls out as he runs up to the two.

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen Chief Malarkey?" he asks, "A package came for him, and he needs to sign for it."

"Oh, I know what it is, give it here," Nathaniel mumbles grabbing the clipboard. He quickly scribbles his signature and hands it back, saying "Leave it by his office."

"Anyway, it wasn't just me who told the guy it was a waste of time," Kowalski continues, "Everyone at the poker table thought so, but it didn't matter, the guy was dead set on getting it done."

"So, what did you do?" inquired Pyrrha.

"I made a bet," he replies, "If he can build a piece of body armor that could stop an ordinary, civilian .50 BMG FMJ round, then we would have him a round of beer. The conditions were that the vest, the plate….whatever, if it managed to stop the round," he pauses as he opens another door, "On a further note, the wearer had to survive the impact and would be treated as though they didn't have an aura. If he lost, he would buy us a round instead."

"Just an ordinary FMJ round?" Pyrrha asks.

"It's a good benchmark," he replies back, "Because in order to stop a .50 BMG, you would need, bare minimum, a quarter to a half-inch plate of armored steel."

Pyrrha blinked owlishly, she was having trouble wrapping her mind around that amount of stopping power in an ordinary surplus round.

"Wouldn't that make the armor incredibly heavy, though?" she balks.

"Hey, I just said he had to build a functional vest, I didn't say it had to combat ready," he chuckles, "Oh, and we gave him three weeks."

"How'd he do?" Pyrrah asks.

"Hold that though," he tells her before walking forward to the humvee line.

"Specialist," one of the soldiers called out, "HQ-14 is down," he pointed at the truck, "We can't start it."

Nathaniel nods, "Alright, go to the cages and grab the salve cables, see if you can jump start it, if that doesn't work, then make sure you write that down on your PMCS sheets, we have enough issues with stuff breaking down as it is."

The pair then pass by another group working on a parked APC, Nathnial walks over and checks on them as well.

"There she is," Nathnail chuckles, he turns to Pyrrha and explains "This was one of my personal projects, we call it the dragoon."

"It looks menacing," Pyrrah whistles.

"That she is," he smiles back, "But she'll carry a fully equipped squad safely into combat and back."

'Hey Kowalski!" the driver commander calls down.

"How did last week's test go, sir?" he replies.

"She did great, it's what happened afterwards, that is the problem,'' the commander explains as he climbed down from the hatch. He continues, "When we were driving back to base, some asshole on the I-95 was on his phone and didn't see us as he tried to merge into our lane. This forced us to swerve, and we went over the edge of the road and into the trench."

"Is everyone alright?" Nathaniel asks.

The commander nods, "Smith has a concussion, and I was rattled a bit, but over all we're okay." He then pointed back to the APC, "We landed pretty hard and may have over stressed the axles and suspension, and we don't currently have the parts to fix it."

Kowlaksi looked over the files before thoughtfully replying, "Don't bother ordering new parts, they won't get here in time for the general's arrival, let me look into this."

"Thanks for the help."

"Just doing my job sir," Kowalski smiles before walking off.

"Having trouble?" asks Pyrrha while glancing back at the motor-pool.

"Nothing more than usual," he grunts. "Where was I?"

"3 weeks," she says simply.

"Right," he quickly murmurs, "So, 3 weeks later, he comes by with this new vest he built. It wasn't made of steel, rather ceramics so it was fairly light," he motions around his chest, "And it offered decent torso coverage."

He reaches a security checkpoint where he inserts a card and punches his pin.

"So, we slapped it around a human torso mock-up, plaster bones, ballistic gel….you know, stuff like that. Then we backed up to say….50 yards?" he guessed, "Basically point-blank, loaded in a single FMJ round into it and fired it dead center into the torso."

"Oh," Pyrrha hummed, "How did it hold up?"

Nathaniel's eyebrows perked up as he recalled the events that day.

"Well," he murmurs with a bemused smile, "To his credit, the round didn't penetrate."

"Really?" Pyrrhs's eyes widened in surprise.

"I know," he agreed, "I have seen up-armored vehicles that failed to stop that round, and that vest managed to do it." He then shrugs, "I mean, he still lost the bet but, not bad."

"So the person didn't survive then," Pyrrha stated more than asked.

"We were going to test an AP tracer round but…." he lets out a sharp exhale, "Short story is, had a person been wearing the vest, he would have been dead, aura or no aura. Long story, he's really dead."

"Oh," Pyrrha mumbles. "Would a person with aura really not fair that much better?"

"I would spare you the gory details….." he pauses and then shrugs before he pulls out his phone to go over the report, "Okay so, the chest basically had the consistency of mashed-potatoes, the rib-cage was pulverized, and the spine was broken in at least four different places."

Pyrrha visibly winces at the report.

"It wouldn't have been an instant death either," Nathaniel adds, "Ironically, this is where having an aura would actually be worse for you," he jokes darkly as Pyrrha became morbidly curious. "Because if a person without aura got hit, he would probably have long passed out from the pain, if not, then chances are they would expire rather quickly. The sad thing about aura is, if it didn't outright get shattered, then it will most likely keep the victim conscious while their internal organs liquefy."

Pyrrha shuddered at the thought. As the two come up to a locker where he pauses and adds one last note.

"I guess there is one bright side," he mused before turning to Pyrrha, "At least the victim will get to have an open-casket funeral. Anywhere, here…."

He unlocks the seal and pulls out the drawer containing a set of her new armor.

"Hardened Kevlar plates over titanium dipped, tri-weave fibers," the breastplate flicks for further emphasis, "For flexibility."

Pyrrha carefully picks up one of the bronze colored bracers for a closer look.

"Compared to the last set, you'll be lighter, faster, and more agile," he explains.

While examining the bracer, Pyrrha inadvertently swipes a switch on it and causes a set of spikes to fold out from the bracer before propelling forward and embedding themselves into a nearby filing-cabinet. Pyrrha looks back to Nathaniel sheepishly as he stares at her with a blank expression.

"Perhaps you should read the instructions first?" he offers.

"Yeah," she whispers apologetically before placing the bracer back.

He turns back to the armor and warns "Now there is a trade-off, the separation of the plates will make you more vulnerable to knives and gunfire."

He pulls out a deep red cloak and shows it to her, "Now, to cover for the gaps around your neck ,arms, and thighs without restricting your movement." He pulls out a flat piece of material from a drawer, "Silicon carbide disks, ceramic matrices, and compound laminate, it's the same material sewn into the lining of the skirt. This is cutting edge body armor that is rated as Type-IIIA, meaning it'll easily stop handgun cartridges ranging from 9 mm to .44 magnum."

"And the trade-offs?" she asks.

"Rifle rounds 5.56 and up will have no problem penetrating it, and there are still some rather blatant gaps in the armor in order to maintain flexibility, most notably around the thighs and arms." He pulls out the helmet, "For the helmet, we went with a Corinthian style, but I've slightly increased the distance between the cheek-plates, thus allowing for more downward visibility with a higher risk of something getting through."

"Well we wouldn't want to make things too easy now would we?" she jokingly smirks.

Nathaniel lets out a snort before adding "Either way, this will still provide higher protection compared to most things you'll see huntsmen wear without much of an increase in weight nor loss of movement. It's definitely leagues better than your original armor."

Suddenly, Pyrrha asks randomly "How would this hold up against dogs?"

Nathaniel quirks and eyebrow at her before responding with another question "You talking rottweilers or chihuahuas?"

Pyyrha blushes with embarrassment as she further thought about her question.

"It should do fine against cats," Nathnial jokes making her chuckle. He then pulls out a clipboard and hands it to her. "Okay, there is some paperwork that you will have to sign before I officially transfer ownership to you. I also must warn you, that this will kinda limit who you can go to for repairs on your armor as I can almost guarantee that your average smith down-town won't have access to the materials necessary, so if you need anything, come straight to me."

 **(AN: It should look like the female hero from Assassin's Creed Odyssey.)**

Pyrrha nods before signing the forms.

"Can you have it sent to my room?" she asks.

"Sure," he replies, "You do plan on telling them before you walk out in it for your first time?"

"Of course," she huffs matter-of-factly.

Nathnial smiles as he closes the pelican case and locks it.

"Will that be all?"

"Um," she pauses for a moment before replying "No, uh….you wouldn't happen to also be able to help me with getting a ranged weapon?"

"You mean guns?" Nathnaial asks incredulously. 'Why do you gotta word it like that?' He thinks to himself.

"Pistols preferably," she nods enthusiastically.

"Really pulling out all the stops, aren't you?" Nathaniel asked rhetorically.

"It's for my partner," she corrected.

Nathaniel's eyebrows quirk up, "I thought he was dead set on using his sword and shield, and _only_ his sword and shield."

"I'm aiming to change his mind," she replies sternly, "It would be one of many things I am going to try to do for him."

"And, how is the legally blond doing these days?" he asks as he sits down on his desk and logs onto his computer.

"He could be doing better," Pyrrha stated.

"I can see what you mean," Nathanial replies sympathetically. "Not everyone is built to fight, why do you think I prefer driving and fixing things or why Evan likes to fly?"

"It's not just fighting he needs help with," Pyrrha replies, drawing his attention once again.

"His grades are slipping too," she replies, "He needs help, but he doesn't seem to realize that us: me, Nora, Ren, heck, even Ruby….we're all there to help him, all he has to do is ask. Either that or he just doesn't want our help."

"He does seem quite a bit….unprepared for what is required of him here," Nathnial murmurs while trying to find the right words without potential upsetting the champion. "What combat school did he say he went to?"

"He didn't," Pyrrah murmurs as she begins to ponder.

"How did he get in then?" he asks.

"He never talks about it," she replies as they both grew equally suspicious, "Whenever we bring it up….he just mentions his transcripts and then tries to change the subject."

With that blatant red flag raised, Nathanial's mind began to ponder as well, and at that moment, Pyrrha has an epiphany.

"So that's it isn't it?" she asks aloud.

"Pyrrha," Nathaniel says softly.

"He didn't have his aura activated either, which on its own isn't a problem as some people don't get it activated until right around now anyways but…." Pyrrah sighs, "When I asked, he didn't even know what it was. I literally had to explain it to him."

Pyrrha lowered her hand into her hands and started massaging her forehead.

"You know we have to tell someone about this right?" Nathaniel asks.

Pyrrha fearfully looks up to him.

"I'm not saying that we need to report him to Ozpin or Goodwitch, getting him kicked out now doesn't do anyone any good," he explains, "But we have to tell someone, your team has a right to know the truth."

"What do we do?" she asks softly.

"We can't go to CPT. Anderson," he states, "If we go straight to him, Jaune is at best getting expelled."

"If you really want Jaune to stay here, then he needs to get to work now," Nathaniel stated, pressing the emergency of his statement. "We're not talking about just him anymore, right now he is a liability that _will_ put you and your team at risk, so we have to move fast."

Pyrrha narrows her eyes before nodding.

"He's going to need quite a bit of convincing then, he's a little stubborn," Pyrrha ponders.

"That means he needs to be broken down first, best bet is SSG Streicher," he shrugs.

"Why not Alex?" Pyrrha asks curiously.

"It's not his domain," Nathnaile shook his head, "Streicher is an actual trained Drill SGT and specializes in this kind of thing. Also, there's a good chance he wouldn't survive if we let Alex loose on him."

Nathaniel at that moment reaches into his pocket, procures his dip can and places some into his mouth.

Pyrrha nods, "Okay."

He picks up an empty water bottle and spits into it.

"I don't think I'm going to be ready for this," Pyrrha sighs and lowers her head.

"Who ever is?" Nathaniel shrugs, "at this point, I don't think you have a choice unless you want to lose a team leader of all people."

"You really think this will work?" she asks.

"I don't know," he shook his head, "I do know that Robert would never touch him if he didn't have potential."

Pyrrha remains silent as she listens.

"I have been under much worse leadership than him," Nahniel reasons, "With the right push…. I think he could take you guys pretty far."

A few more seconds a silence passes before he asks "Do you want to tell your team or should I?"

"I'll handle it," she says quietly, "Jaune's going to be in for a rude awakening isn't he?"

"If you don't want to do this, we can try to find another way," Nathaniel offers.

"No," she replies simply.

"I'll make the call, and we'll wait for 1LT Basuda to come back with a confirmation since it's still not confirmed whether or not he did fake his transcripts," Nathnaiel reminded. "We'll need to keep this only between us for now."

"Alright," she says softly.

* * *

 **Author's Notes: Okay, looks like we're going to stay with the "once a month" posting for now, at least until my semester officially ends. I hope you enjoyed this story, I am still trying to build my reading audience for this story, so please leave a review if you have something to say, I read them all. I'll see you guys in a bit, as always, Big Brother is watching….always.**


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